“That dog is so futile! All he does is sniff, bark, and whine! I can’t tolerate with such a dog!” I sighed to myself as my beagle, Puddles, circumnavigated around me, twitching his tail. I pushed him away and perambulated off to my room. I am not friends with animals, and even though I live on an old farm with my grandfather and grandmother, animals are not one of my interests. Puddles, was an old dog but with much energy. He was constantly jumping up and down on people with his muddy, and feculent paws. I slowly trudged up the road towards the farm. The country road was dusty, and quiet except for the occasional passing vehicle. Only the clear, burbling sound of a wren’s birdsong sporadically broke the boredom. A faded sign flapped lethargically against the gate. On it, a big black and white cow stood over the words “Bent Rail Farm”. The sign needed fresh paint, and one of its hinges was broken. Suddenly, the distant roar of an engine shattered the stillness of that Friday afternoon. Big tires speeding over gravel pelted small stones in all directions. The truck stopped in front of the red-brick farmhouse with the green door and shutters. It was the large milking truck that stopped by every Friday afternoon. I leisurely passed by fields of corn, wheat, barley, and strawberries. The fields stretched from the gradient hills to the snowy mountains. The blasting wind blew like a bellowing blizzard. A river cut through the hilly panorama. The river ubiquitously flowed from tranquil to tempestuous water. Raging river rapids rushed recklessly into rocks ricocheting and rebounding relentlessly through this rigorous river. Leaves danced with the wind as I looked around the valley. The sun was trapped by smoky, and soggy clouds. I... ... middle of paper ... ...ress with her dog addressed her attention towards me and said, “I am afraid that your dog will not survive. You should of just left him to die at your place.” The venom that dripped from her tone and volume soaked her words to me like all the malignant bacteria that thrive in the gutter of our trash receptacles. I was furious and did not believe one word that she had said. Although I was hesitant and distressed because it was my carelessness that led my poor dog to suffer. After approximately thirty minutes, which felt like forever the vet came out of the door holding Puddles. His head was wrapped in a cloth, but he was feeling much better as his long and sticky tongue jumped out of his mouth. I ran up to him and took him from the vet and cuddled him with joy. He licked my face with his gooey and smelly breath, but I did not mind Puddles was happy and so was I.
The drive to cross the Kentucky border had taken hours and hours of strenuous patience to finally arrive in another state. The view was by far country like as hints of cow manure could be smelled far from a distance. We drive through small towns, half the size of our hometown of Glen Ellyn had been the biggest town we've seen if not smaller. The scenery had overwhelmed us, as lumps of Earth from a great distance turned to perfectly molded hills, but as we got closer and closer to our destination the hills no longer were hills anymore, instead the hills had transformed to massive mountains of various sizes. These mountains surrounded our every view as if we had sunken into a great big deep hole of green pastures. Our path of direction was seen, as the trails of our road that had followed for numerous hours ended up winding up the mountainous mountains in a corkscrew dizzy-like matter.
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.
First Friend: A History of Dogs and Humans, by Katherine Rogers, articulates the history of the relationship between dogs and humans. Wild Justice: The Moral Lives of Animals, by Marc Bekoff and Jessica Pierce, investigates if and how dogs exhibit morality. In both texts, anecdotes and observations are used to portray instances of dogs displaying cooperation, empathy, altruism, and, by extension, morality. Consequently, it stands to reason that dogs have a capacity for sociality, but how can the sociality of dogs be described? A dog’s capacity for sociality is the ability to form long term relationships with members of the same or other species. Dogs, in particular, dogs who hunt as well as dogs who play, are able to form long term relationships with humans and other dogs through trust, love,
Rays of golden sunlight were piercing the blue sky. Today was a hot day. There had been no rain in the last month. A young child was playing in the field while his father was harvesting the crops. The boy was playing among the newly harvested golden vegetables. There were a lot more vegetables than he remembered from years past. The boy knew they were going to sell most of this harvest. Where are the other plants that he remembered? Why was corn the only thing growing? Why is it in straight lines instead of winding around the property like it normally did? He pondered these questions on the way to school. Today, unlike normal, his teacher let him out of school early. Though he thought nothing of it at the time the sky was turning dark. It was almost like a monster ate the sun. Not only was it getting dark the wind started to blow. The wind sound like a wolf howling at a full moon. When he reached his house, his father rushed him inside. The first of many dust storms hit and the period known as the Dust Bowl began.
The arrival of winter was well on its way. Colorful leaves had turned to brown and fallen from the branches of the trees. The sky opened to a new brightness with the disappearance of the leaves. As John drove down the country road he was much more aware of all his surroundings. He grew up in this small town and knew he would live there forever. He knew every landmark in this area. This place is where he grew up and experienced many adventures. The new journey of his life was exciting, but then he also had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach of something not right.
I have never considered that a book about a dog could be so appealing and full of deep thoughts. But I changed my viewpoint after reading the autobiographical novel “Marley & Me” written by John Grogan which depicts an astonishing story about the neurotic and loyal, clumsy and loving dog named Marley. In fact, as the author mentioned in some interviews, he intended to write the “dog story”, but soon after he realized that it was impossible to do so without including the family life [2]. That is why the title “Marley & Me” encapsulates the main topic of the book such as the relationship between a human and a pet. To start with let me introduce main characters: John, Jenny, and Marley.
The wind whispered outside my flower curtains. My Rosemary garden swayed to the noiseless tune. I sit quietly watching their soft movement, the flowers I worked hard to nurse. The rest of my yard remained parched, with time it had given defeat to the hot Alabama sky.I glared at the cracked dirt, cursing it for giving in to the pressure, praying I won't do the same .I sip the cool lemon ice tea, the cubes of ice brush on my dry lips.
I knew from the first time I saw the little Pit Bull Terrier that we would be best friends for life. I had never had a dog before so I was uber excited. I named my new friend Dora, mainly because her older brother’s name was Diego, and made her life as great as I could. Dora was a very friendly dog; despite the stereotype Pit Bulls have been given. I did not agree with dog fighting at all. I wanted to make sure that my precious Dora would never have to worry about another dog trying to harm her. I did a very great job protecting Dora until one day at the Vet Clinic. Dora was called to be seen next. At the other end of the hallway was
On March 15, 2017, I visited the St. Hubert’s Animal Welfare Center, an animal shelter attached to the Mount Olive Petsmart in Flanders, New Jersey. As my family had recently adopted our third dog from the shelter in December of 2016, I was excited to return to the shelter, now with my knowledge from class to see what new things I noticed. Some main things that stuck out to me were being able to notice some of the changes that occur as a dog ages, the exercise that different dogs received, how each dog was cared for, and the shelter’s policy on spaying/neutering.
Sitting in the back seat between two towering piles of clothes and snacks we drive up the abandoned streets of Adell. I see vast open fields of corn and dense wooded forest filled with life, along with the occasional, towering grain house. We pull into a dry, dusty, driveway of rock and thriving, overgrown weeds. We come up to an aged log cabin with a massive crab apple tree with its sharp thorns like claws. The ancient weeping willow provides, with is huge sagging arms, shade from the intense rays of the sun. Near the back of the house there is a rotten, wobbly dock slowly rotting in the dark blue, cool water. Near that we store our old rusted canoes, to which the desperate frogs hop for shelter. When I venture out to the water I feel the thick gooey mud squish through my toes and the fish mindlessly try to escape but instead swim into my legs. On the lively river banks I see great blue herring and there attempt to catch a fish for their dinner. They gracefully fly with their beautiful wings arching in the sun to silvery points.
The ruckus from the bottom of the truck is unbearable, because of the noise and excessive shaking. As we slowly climbed the mountain road to reach our lovely cabin, it seemed almost impossible to reach the top, but every time we reached it safely. The rocks and deep potholes shook the truck and the people in it, like a paint mixer. Every window in the truck was rolled down so we could have some leverage to hold on and not loose our grip we needed so greatly. The fresh clean mountain air entered the truck; it smelt as if we were lost: nowhere close to home. It was a feeling of relief to get away from all the problems at home. The road was deeply covered with huge pines and baby aspen trees. Closely examining the surrounding, it looks as if it did the last time we were up here.
When we get to the vet, my parents explain that they think the dog is their daughter, and just like we all imagined, they thought they were nuts. My mom tries convincing the doctor just to take a look at me, but he refuses, and kicks us out. Not knowing what to do, everyone just starts looking at each other blankly. My sister being very bored wants to play truth and dare but she realizes she can’t play with a dog. Wanting her sister back badly, she starts thinking harder than she had ever thought. Finally she comes to her senses and remembers our game of truth or dare and how I had to eat fried dog heart. Getting anxious, she told my parents her idea and we head to Dogs Diner as fast as we can. We get there, and my dad quickly orders the fried
It was february 2016 on a friday when me and my brother Josh just got off of our bus from school. It was a bright and sunny afternoon. Me and Josh started walking together on the sidewalk. for about 5 minutes until we were at our house. I turned the doorknob then opened the door. We both went in and decided to go to the family room to play on our Playstation 4 When we noticed something really off. Our dog Shorty was laying on the ground with our mom trying to comfort him.
This is a story of Max, who went to sleep an ordinary boy and woke up with an unordinary ability. The ability to with his dog Comet.
The night ebbed in the darkness brUGHT t about the memory of the most tragic event in the history of the small town of Greenville. Not knowing the tragedy that would unfold the citizens rested quietly in the slumber of that hot August night. Storm clouds loomed on the horizon with blazes of light that speckled the sky. In the distance the soft rumble of thunder brought no alarm to this quiet little town. Jenny and Blade lived in the rural area of green pine forests on the outskirts of this sleepy little town. Nowhere in the history of Greenville had such a tragedy happens, and no one was aware of the destruction that loomed on the horizon. As the night closed near the midnight hour, the wind seemed to awaken the lifeless living things in