My mom weakly slipped into the car alongside me. She had been a half an hour late picking me up from the meeting, and had remained completely silent as we walked to the car. I knew something was wrong as soon as I saw her sink into her seat, heaving a sigh. My lips slowly pressed into a line. I was shaking nervously with anticipation, preparing myself for the absolute worst. She dropped her head and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. My heart sank. About three-and-a-half years ago, we adopted a German Shepherd puppy, who was one of many in a fairly large litter of puppies. We first found out about these puppies by a woman who showed up at our front door one day. She claimed that someone had “dumped a litter of German Shepherd puppies”
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My parents then decided that we would adopt one, and find a home for the other; so they went. I waited impatiently that day until they finally walked through the door. One puppy was cradled in each of their arms. One had floppy ears, and the normal black and brown colorings of a generic German Shepherd; we called her Renee. We found a home for Renee after caring for her for about a month or so. The other had perked ears, and her fur was two shades of brown, as well as scattered white spots on her face, legs and chest; and we called her Keiko. My mom always swore that she was related to some kind of African Painted Dog, or possibly some kind of cattle dog. But after that frigid winter day, I guess we’ll never …show more content…
Bits of snow had collected on the already frosted grass as an aftermath of the snowfall we had received about a week back. I had just been picked up by my mom from a robotics meeting that was held after school up the street from my house. When my mom walked through the door, she was pulled aside by my robotics coaches, and they seemed to be consoling her. At that moment, I was thinking of every possible thing that could have gone wrong. Maybe it was my grandpa, or my dad’s car broke down. Was Maggie sick again? It could be anything. The anticipation seemed to be consuming me. We were sitting in my mom’s little blue Mazda parked along the street outside of the house. I drew in a breath to speak, but my mom interrupted. She told me that Keiko, our sweet dog, had been hit by a bus speeding down Black Road, and that she was dead. Her voice cracked and was nearly inaudible. My entire body went numb. I felt as if my brain had processed the wrong message. I looked back over to my mom, hoping that she’d correct herself, or tell me that I had heard her wrong. But she didn’t say a word. I couldn’t control the sobs that just simply blew out of me. I had never cried so much in my life. I cried because I missed her, because of all the times I had to chase her down the road when she ran out the door, I cried because she was too young. This couldn’t be
My parents then decided that we would adopt one, and find a home for the other; so they went. I waited impatiently that day until they finally walked through the door. One puppy was cradled in each of their arms. One had floppy ears, and the normal black and brown colorings of a generic German Shepherd; we called her Renee. We found a home for Renee after caring for her for about a month or so. The other had perked ears, and her fur was two shades of brown, as well as scattered white spots on her face, legs and chest; and we called her Keiko. My mom always swore that she was related to some kind of African Painted Dog, or possibly some kind of cattle dog. But after that frigid winter day, I guess we’ll never …show more content…
Bits of snow had collected on the already frosted grass as an aftermath of the snowfall we had received about a week back. I had just been picked up by my mom from a robotics meeting that was held after school up the street from my house. When my mom walked through the door, she was pulled aside by my robotics coaches, and they seemed to be consoling her. At that moment, I was thinking of every possible thing that could have gone wrong. Maybe it was my grandpa, or my dad’s car broke down. Was Maggie sick again? It could be anything. The anticipation seemed to be consuming me. We were sitting in my mom’s little blue Mazda parked along the street outside of the house. I drew in a breath to speak, but my mom interrupted. She told me that Keiko, our sweet dog, had been hit by a bus speeding down Black Road, and that she was dead. Her voice cracked and was nearly inaudible. My entire body went numb. I felt as if my brain had processed the wrong message. I looked back over to my mom, hoping that she’d correct herself, or tell me that I had heard her wrong. But she didn’t say a word. I couldn’t control the sobs that just simply blew out of me. I had never cried so much in my life. I cried because I missed her, because of all the times I had to chase her down the road when she ran out the door, I cried because she was too young. This couldn’t be