personal narrative

personal narrative

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  • When I was four years old, my family adopted a huge golden doodle named Buddy.
  • At first, I was terrified of Buddy. He was huge compared to me! I even remember one specific instance where he chased me down the stairs as I ran screaming and crying.
  • But as I grew older and began spending more time with him, I quickly realized that he wouldn't hurt a fly. After that, we formed a tight bond.
  • That bond lasted until I was 12. For 8 years, I had a fury best friend I could always count on, who always slept in my room with me in case I had bad dreams and took over my bean bag chair.
  • When he died unexpectedly at the young age of 8, I felt like my world was crumbling. I stayed in my bed and cried for days, just staring at the spot where his collar hung on my dresser.
  • Although it hurt that he was no longer with me in physical form, I slowly got over my sadness and moved on with my life and payed attention to my other remaining dog, Jack.
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