When I was like eight years old or so, on second grade or so, we had this school assignment to write and draw a story about our best friend. I chose to write about my grandma’s dog, a wire haired fox terrier. She was my best friend while growing up, before I had any other real friends. We spent summers together at our summer place with my grandma, playing and asking for snacks and whatnot. I wanted to have my own dog, just like almost every kid wants at some point, but I lived to be almost forty years old before that happened.

 

My best friend

Now I’ll tell you what I did with my best friend. I tell about some of the days.

My dad’s mother and father have a dog named Delilah, but we call it Della. It isone year older than I. It is a girl dog. We play together most of the summer days. Now I’ll start the real story.

My best friend

One summer morning I woke up eight o’clock because a dog was barking. It was not Della, I knew it. I looked out of the window. The dog that was barking was brown and much bigger than Della. The dog was lost.

My grandmother woke up, too. She gave me some meat so that I could give it to the dog. The dog ate so much , I thought it had been many hours eating nothing.

The dog was light brown. I took the dog to my grandmother’s house. She wrote to the newspaper that a light brown dog is found.

The dog was with us two or three days. Then the dog’s owner came. She thanked us for taking good care of the dog. I was so little that I wanted to play dog. The owner had a little girl.

The dog was nice, but still Della is my best friend. We play so that I trhow a stick and Della gets it and brings it to me.

MOTHER! I WANT A DOG!

Do you know that I’ve always wanted an own dog, but I know I won’t get one.

I was four years old when that happened.