My First Dog

By the time I was 11 years old, I was practically in love with dogs, overcoming my fear of the k-9's I had earlier. I always loved visiting my aunt for the sole purpose of being around her neighbor's young puppy. At first, I was timid to approach a creature like this but then I grew to love them. Time passed, and I came to the conclusion that I needed a dog in my life. Such wonderful creatures needed a respectful owner and I just knew that I was the right one for the job; the only dilemma I had was getting my parents to think the same way. Over time, I would repeatedly ask my parents the big question, "Can I have a dog?" and the same answer was given, "Wait until we get a bigger house." I dreaded this response because I never knew when this big move into a bigger house was going to take place. Time after time I gave various reasons for me having a dog such as the fact that it would teach me some responsibility and that it would give me something to do and attend to. They finally gave in. My parents vowed on a written document on my 13th birthday that within 6 days of moving into our next home, I would be able to get a dog, and this time I knew exactly when the move was going to be made. This was thrilling for me and I will never forget January 4, 2007, the day I first held my new laborador-beagle puppy, Lacey.