I could hear the sirens in the distance. Everything blurred into slow motion. It had attacked. . . .
Hot summer sun glistened in the bright blue sky. The white sand felt warm beneath our bare feet. My friends, Patrick and Tommy, and I had just spent a glorious day at the beach building sand castles and jumping the white washed waves. It was another perfect day of summer vacation.
Our rumbling stomachs indicated that it was time to venture home. We vaulted on to our scooters and rode back to Patrick & Tommy’s apartment. When we got there, we commenced to bring out the food for the barbeque. Hot dogs, hamburgers, homemade potato salad, apple cider, and fresh homemade apple pie for dessert were on the menu. The neighbors had already fired up their grills. It was going to be an impromptu block party barbeque. We could hardly wait for the dinner bell to ring!
The three of us were partaking in a rousing game of handball in the driveway, and I was winning, of course, when minutes later we saw some people walking their dogs. We stopped playing momentarily to admire the dogs and beckoned them our way. There was a pretty golden retriever, whose name escapes me. The retriever was on a leash and following him was a small, unleashed, mutt. We played with the friendly retriever for a few minutes and then I leaned down to pet the small dog. Suddenly, I realized I had been mauled. The small, seemingly friendly dog, turned out was not so friendly after all. The vicious creature had attacked me. Paralyzed with fear, I felt a gaping hole ripped in my face. My skin felt gnarled, chiseled and raw. Blood gushed down my severed cheek. Tremors surged my body. Drops of hemoglobin splattered all over the sidewalk. My mind lap...
... middle of paper ...
...nd we left. I lapsed into an exhausted slumber as we made our way home.
The next morning, I found out that Patrick and Tommy’s mom, Dana, had talked to the owners of the retriever. They said the little dog was not theirs. That dog had simply been following them. Dana, her brother, Scott, and some other neighbors had searched the neighborhood hoping to find the feral beast, to be sure it had been vaccinated, but to no avail. Needless to say, we were all relieved that the dog had not bitten me since we would never know if it was rabid.
Ten days later, I returned to my doctor to have the stitches removed. The incident left a gaping scar across my face. Moral of the story, as I learned from my doctor, is never put yourself beneath an animal, as this can create the idea to the animal that he is the dominate force, which is what apparently happened in my case.
the extremely blue summer sky. It was very hot. I remember this because of the
sat down to rest and then heard sirens in the distance. We saw a blue and white
The poem "Summer" by Dean Myers uses figurative language throughout to convey the simple joys experienced during a hot summer day. By using repetition and imagery to create a scene for his readers to experience and understand his message. I chose this poem because it reminded me of my summer experiences that are similar to this one depicted by Mr. Myers.
Owner Tim Johnson was walking home, until he realised what was happening to his dog. Tim said “I had seen my dog get angry sometimes, but nothing like this.”
For several days, Donna would go over to feed the dog. Unfortunately, one day as Donna was trying to unwind the water hose, the pit bull attacked her aggressively. After all, Donna defended the dog because she knew the pit bull was a victim of animal abuse. The pit bull was defending himself because maybe in the past, the water hose was used against him as a weapon of torture. In contrast, her neighbors classified the dog as aggressive and dangerous based on its
When I woke we were just outside the city. When we reached the very edge of the city we were stopped and surrounded by countless hordes of people. The truck rocked, swayed, and squeaked as the people smacked against the sides of the truck. Everybody was a blur as I began to panic as we were surrounded. But then I realized they weren't out to hurt us they just wanted their voices to be heard. I couldn’t understand a word that they were saying though because there so many different people yelling things. It all kind of just faded into one loud roar that wouldn’t die down.
When I first arrived “Lisa” The girl that I shadowed told me that there was an emergency with one of the animals. It ended up that a one-year-old beagle ate an entire thing of metabolite, and then slowly started to die. The liver had shut down, and the heart rate was up to 300. Lisa told me that taking a thing of metabolite was like taking 50 cups of coffee at once. The owners of the beagle were there and bowling. The beagle’s name was Murry. Murry's body slowly was shutting down one thing after another. The owners made the decision the dog was going to be put to sleep. We got the dog ready to be taken out. They undid all the cords from the dog so they could take it to another room. I said goodbye to the dog, and then they took it into the other room so that the owners could be there when they put him to sleep. After that happened they then had to put a sleep a little hedgehog that had cancer on its mouth. We then did two regular checkups with one cat and with one dog. Those when great. After that we had a dog come in and it ended up having an affection that might end up killing it. I never heard the end result. The last thing that I did there was that a black lab had been bitten by another dog, and that dog ripped a hole in the neck of the black lab. The doctors had to perform surgery on the dog to close up the holes in the neck. They first had to clean it out with qutips. And blood stated to come out right then I was a little dizzy and I thought I was going to faint. But thank god I didn’t. I saw a cat get dental work on it. And a cat get a bath and they had to blow dry it and brush the hair while it was a sleep.
The smell of the restaurants faded and the new, refreshing aroma of the sea salt in the air took over. The sun’s warmth on my skin and the constant breeze was a familiar feeling that I loved every single time we came to the beach. I remember the first time we came to the beach. I was only nine years old. The white sand amazed me because it looked like a wavy blanket of snow, but was misleading because it was scorching hot. The water shone green like an emerald, it was content. By this I mean that the waves were weak enough to stand through as they rushed over me. There was no sense of fear of being drug out to sea like a shipwrecked sailor. Knowing all this now I knew exactly how to approach the beach. Wear my sandals as long as I could and lay spread out my towel without hesitation. Then I’d jump in the water to coat myself in a moist protective layer before returning to my now slightly less hot towel. In the water it was a completely different world. While trying to avoid the occasional passing jellyfish, it was an experience of
A dreadful thing had happened — a dog, come goodness knows whence, had appeared in the yard. It came bounding among us with a loud volley of barks, and leapt round us wagging its whole body, wild with glee at finding so many human beings together. It was a large woolly dog, half Airedale, half pariah. For a moment it pranced round us, and then, before anyone could stop it, it had made a dash for the prisoner, and jumping up tried to lick his face. Everyone stood aghast, too taken aback even to grab at the dog.
I arrived at my grandma’s house in bewilderment. The smell of flavored pork and freshly made red sauce wafted out of the windows and rose with the sound of laughter. The family was already there: all four of my aunts elbow deep into bowls of chicken, pork, sauces; my cousins and a couple of uncles with rolled up sleeves spreading
It was a hot summer day, the sun floundering every terrace with its burning waves. I was with Sam, at his terrace, playing with those plastic tubes that spread water everywhere as we squeeze them. It was among the happiest moments of my summer vacation, which was not that long, for it was only two Sundays a month, the rest was at the daunting and exhausting mill of my master or patron.
Walking on a land of gold, the sand being so soft and smooth, glistens as it reflects the suns rays with joy. Cool, light and refreshing, the breeze gently eases up against my skin and glides through my hair, sending a gentle shiver up my spine. The rustling of leaves, small array of birds and delicate splashes of the sea are amazingly soothing and relaxing. The whole beach itself looks like a painted picture with a spectrum of colours all merged with one another. The sea also showing off a wide range of colours that reflects of the surface, like a dancing peacock showing off its finely detailed feathers.
The dull light of the sun somehow manages to kindle my senses in a way I had never seen or felt before. Everything felt like it came to a standstill and the effect of the light made the scene look like one in a painting. The waves break gently into white foam on the black beach. The small crystals in the sand glimmer and twinkle brilliantly against the sunrays. The seagulls ride with the wind and the soft sand cushions my toes.
My stomach retched, my throat dry, had I got myself into this mess? A distant thud echoed across the cold, hard floor, ricocheting into my ear. Someone was coming.