Narrative Essay

I've never met a puppy that I couldn't look into its precious little eyes and fall in love with it. Just the mere thought of a warm fuzzy fur ball makes me want to bee line for the little pup to hold it close. It brings back the memories of when I picked my youngster out, Jack, or should I say he picked me. Excitement built up when mom and dad finally caved in for a puppy of my own. Promises of taking care of him flew out faster than a hound dog after a squirrel. "I'll feed him and feed him and love him and love him, and hold him and hold him" and so forth. When we arrived at the farm, 6 little tumbling roly-poly black and white puppies stumbled towards me. Mom and dad wanted "Mister Reserved" puppy, but I knew as soon as I laid eyes on the one I call Jack, he would be mine, and mine forever. As I caressed his silky ears, and felt his wet pink nose on my cheek, my eyes pleaded with mom and dad to bring him home. The cuteness factor worked. We brought Jack home that day. 5 weeks later his cuteness factor wore off, especially when he gnawed off the legs of my Barbie's. Little Jackie redeemed himself when he was forced to have tea parties with me in a little pink hat. Sadly for me, the puppy stage only lasted a short time. My 10 pound ball of fluff is now a 70 pound dog, who evidentially still thinks he's a puppy, especially during thunder storms. His quivering body begs to be held after the first clap of thunder. Just one look from his chocolate brown eyes, and I know he will always be my black and white little fur ball that needs to be protected.

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