Dogs

It is true; dogs are a man’s best friend, but only some dogs. I grew up always having a dog in my house. Our first dog was a beautiful Dalmatian named Pongo. Yes, like the one off of 101 Dalmatians. He was a great dog, but I really don’t remember too much about him. The only vivid memory I have is of the time he swallowed a sock whole and got really sick. We had to take him to the veterinarian, and I just remember seeing the black sock in a plastic bag after they had removed it. It was now all slimy and doused in rainbow-colored mucus. It was gross. I loved that dog. He was great, but we had to put him down when I was about 7. Then we got Maya. She was a fantastic golden retriever. The nicest, most gentle dog you’ve ever met. However, mom and dad didn’t want to have her in the house, so we kept her in a kennel outside beneath the deck. I feel bad for that dog. She spent most of her life in that small fenced area, and didn’t get out much. When she did get out it was like a kid in a candy store. She ran so quickly up and down the back yard that I could never catch her. She really acted like a runaway prisoner. So when she got old and passed away we vowed to never keep another dog locked up in its kennel. We now have three. One golden retriever named Rylee, and two small spaniels named Zoey and Tessa. The bigger dog is GREAT, but our two smaller dogs are so annoying. They bark at anything and everything that comes in their way, and they leave little surprises all over the place. Hence, why I say that only some dogs are a man’s best friend.