Thursday, October 30, 2008
Basketball
Friday, October 24, 2008
Description essay... tell me what you think.
My Bestest Friend
I'll give you one guess at who my best friend was. He was short, covered in black fur, warm, and had four legs. Yes, i said four legs. He was my dog, Jake. He had short black hair, was very muscular, and had a white patch on his paw. The reason he was my best friend is because no matter what happened he was always there for me. He always made me feel better when i was feeling down. No one can ever be better than him.
He was a one of a kind dog. He wouldn't chase balls, sticks, or Frisbees. He would only chase rocks! Yes, rocks. I never did figure out what was so special about rocks. But he would just sit there and chew on them. I had asked him once or twice if it hurt his teeth, but all he did was stand up and look at me as if he were saying, “ Well, aren't ya goin' to throw another?” He would chase rocks as long as someone would throw them. Even after he started to limp for his hurt paw.
A few years back my mom was on the phone and Jake and I were playing outside. And he had ran under my mom's feet and when she stepped down her foot landed on his paw and pinched it between her foot and the edge of the porch. We thought that his paw was broke at first. He was only a puppy at this time. We had only had him for like a month or two, and i was devastated at the thought of putting my puppy down. He later started to walk on it and we figured that he was fine. Later in life however, we figured that it was hurt and had never healed right, but got around fine.
Jake was by far the most active dog that I have ever seen. He would run beside our car on the way to the barn, without stopping. This was when we lived maybe just over a mile from the barn. He would run the length full speed (which was about 25-30 mph). He would also follow me up on the hill when I went for walks, or he would just go on a random run for about a day and return later that night.
One day he went on one of his runs, but the only difference this time was, he didn't come back when he usually did. Thinking he would return later that night I went to bed without worrying. Around ten the next morning Dean, my step-dad, yelled up the stairs to my room telling me we had to go get Jake. I jumped out of bed thinking someone had caught him and we had to go pick him up, because this has happened once or twice already. I got dressed and went downstairs. I asked Dean where we had to go get him. He told me that Jake was at one of our neighbors. I, for some odd reason, asked if he was okay. Still to this day I have no idea why I asked such a question. Dean's answer was, “He's dead.” He had gotten hit on Route 6. No, I didn't cry, at first. We picked him up, brought him home, and buried him. He was no longer the warm, covered-in-black-fur friend I had once had. He was a cold,lifeless, black-furred body. But I still remember the day I had first got him. It was the best day of my entire life!
Purpose: To tell people about how much a dog can mean to a boy.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
I Am Who I Am
I can't change that for it is me
I am who i am happy and care free
And you are who you are just like me
