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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1663801-My-Dog-True-Story
Rated: E · Non-fiction · Animal · #1663801
The story is about my first pet ever. And always my favourite.
Could you ever imagine my surprise when my parents placed their hands on my shoulder, sat me down and told me the statement that I have loved my whole life?
         As most people that know me very well, know that I am a dog addict. My room is filled with assortments of different posters with all sorts of canine breeds.
         Most of my stories have to do with dogs, or related animals such as wolves, jackals or other descendants that as time went on turned into the precious domesticated dog.
         If we have a free topic at school to chose, guess what? It’s around the lines of dogs of course.
         With all my love of these man’s best friend, my family did not have one, which broke my heart completely.
         But all the shatter pieces made they way back together when my eyes heard my parents utter the sentence I have always wanted to hear:
         “We’re getting a dog”
         I swear I was bouncing off the walls when I heard this. We were finally getting something I wanted my whole life.
         And to make things better, my mom and dad were thinking of getting my most favourite dog in the world: a beagle.
         We had to travel about an hour from where I live now to retrieve my dog. We were planning on going after a beagle breeder, who had thousands of beagles running in and out of their house. But I didn’t mind one bit. As long as we ended up with a little puppy in my arms on the trip home.

When my family arrived, my mom, dad and four brothers, all of us were invited inside to take a look.
         From what I can remember, my parents asked for a puppy and the woman traveled into the back room.          
         My eyes grew wide open as she came back with two little beagles bouncing around in her arms.
         They were placed on the floor and began to run around, sniffing like their lives depended on it.
         All five of us kids explored each of them, observing their habits and antics.
         One of the beagle pups was just two colours: black and white. Which was different for these breeds. Beagles are usually three colours. But I didn’t give much though to it.
         The other one was the normal coloured. And was a little more friendly. But I held no judgment against the other pup.

Sadly, my parents announced we could only bring one home. My heart fell for a second, but soon brightened up, having forgotten that we were still taking one home.
         I couldn’t decide which one to take, so I let my family decide. I was happy with whomever they picked.
Just a little over ten minutes later, my dad was handing over the money for the triple coloured pup.
         While I was on the side, petting both, my brothers and parents were arguing over which one. And I suppose they came to the conclusion.
         On the way home, to my dismay, the she-pup got to sit with my older brother. A random fact, but I have never forgotten about it.

Close to an hour later, we were home. The dog was galloping her way through my house, glancing at every little nook and cranny.
         Name? Well, before getting the dog, all five of us wrote down a couple of names. But none of the ones we were wanted were picked. All of us agreed that Mocha was the name. All of the beagle’s colours were blended in such a way it reminded us about a Mocha Latte. So it stuck.
         I loved Mocha with all my heart. And I was sure she loved me.
         Each night, since the beagle got used to our house, Mocha slept with me in my bed, she licked me, and would gracefully let me take her for walks. Well almost.

What saddened me greatly was that my parents thought too fast into getting a dog and didn’t look into what a beagle was really like. And this became a problem.
         Mocha was a sweet dog. But she was a beagle and beagles need to be free and run. But in our little town home, we didn’t have that space.          
         Whenever the door was open, she would bolt. It would take us half hour to trap her again.
         She was chewing up too many things in the house; it was driving my parents crazy!
         It was only about eight months later when they decide we must give Mocha to the SPCA.
         I cried. In fact, I became depressed for days after that.
         But I finally came out of my slump when my parents declared a camping trip. But that’s a whole different story.

It has been three years since Mocha. And we hadn’t a dog since, which my heart is still broken. But my parents promised me they were looking. We just wanted to find the right one so I would not get attached to a dog that would be leaving within the year.
         But Mocha wasn’t the only animal we have ever had! I can think of numerous animals on the top of my head: three guinea pigs, a bat, thousands of frogs, couple of snakes, six gerbil, four mice, two rats and am currently domesticating two dumbo rats and two petit gerbils.
         And that’s all I can think off. Pete only knows what else I missed. But that’s what this little thirteen-year-old girl gets for living with four brothers.
         But that leads to another big adventure.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1663801-My-Dog-True-Story