A dog is something I had wanted for majority of my life, I wanted a companion that loved me so much that he would risk his own life for mine. When that moment finally came, I could not believe how lucky I was. Until we visited the vets. I never expected our first visit to the vets to leave me with such devastation and anger as it did. As the vet told my mother and me of our newly adopted puppy’s detrimental musculoskeletal disorder, my heart tore. Visions of running through parks, swimming in lakes, and hiking up mountains had dissipated. Looking at Sheldon, our puppy, I felt outraged at the deceitful actions in which his shelter had taken. Our family had a long discussion that night; should we give Sheldon up, or give him a happy life with
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When my aunt brought home her first dog, Rayner, when I was six years old, I immediately felt a dog of our own was a necessity; however, my little brother Riley had just been born and my family felt that, to my great anguish, a dog was too much to take on. So, I continued my wait, forever searching for the perfect dog for our family. The arrival of my aunt’s second dog, Macey, gave my nine-year-old self an increased feeling of desire for a dog to call my own. But to my great dismay, my mom and dad still saw the timing as imperfect. For the next four years, I continued to write a dog on the top of my Christmas list, and continually pined my parents for my own “Rayner and Macey”. This, as I can now see, may have been the reason as to why my parents put off owning a dog. In 2012 came my family's big move from England to America. Before the move, I had been promised that a year after we had settled into our new home in Pennsylvania, I would receive a puppy. The promise gave me a sense of hope, leading me to regularly check local breeders and occasionally the local pounds. Often I would point out a dog which I loved in order to try to persuade my parents, though, this never worked. Circumstances, such as another move and my parents procrastination, further delayed my goals of owning a dog. Eventually, I gave up
When my aunt brought home her first dog, Rayner, when I was six years old, I immediately felt a dog of our own was a necessity; however, my little brother Riley had just been born and my family felt that, to my great anguish, a dog was too much to take on. So, I continued my wait, forever searching for the perfect dog for our family. The arrival of my aunt’s second dog, Macey, gave my nine-year-old self an increased feeling of desire for a dog to call my own. But to my great dismay, my mom and dad still saw the timing as imperfect. For the next four years, I continued to write a dog on the top of my Christmas list, and continually pined my parents for my own “Rayner and Macey”. This, as I can now see, may have been the reason as to why my parents put off owning a dog. In 2012 came my family's big move from England to America. Before the move, I had been promised that a year after we had settled into our new home in Pennsylvania, I would receive a puppy. The promise gave me a sense of hope, leading me to regularly check local breeders and occasionally the local pounds. Often I would point out a dog which I loved in order to try to persuade my parents, though, this never worked. Circumstances, such as another move and my parents procrastination, further delayed my goals of owning a dog. Eventually, I gave up