Narrative Essay On Dog

When I was a little girl, perhaps about five years of age, we used to live in an apartment building not very far from where I attended kindergarten. I hated that place with a passion, because I found the teacher to be intimidating and scary. Every day I couldn't wait until somebody picks me up, so I could get out of there and go play with my dog. Back then our dog, a little Maltese terrier by the name of Fifa, was my best friend in the whole world. I had prolonged conversations with her, we'd run around together and at the end of the day she'd jump on my bed and slept at my feet. Up to this day I keep a framed picture of her, which traveled many places with me. The frame is old and cracked, because I framed this picture when I was about nine years old and I never changed it because it is dear to me. One

“Why don't we make a snowball, and roll it all the way home. Then we can make a giant snowman.” My eyes widened at the prospect and I immediately handed him the dog and made a snowball. I rolled it on the ground and it was getting bigger and bigger with every step. We passed the school, the park and the supermarket on our way home. Thinking back now, I can't imagine how my dad could even handle walking at such a slow pace while I rolled that snowball around. Especially for the first few minutes when it was so small, I had to bend over to roll it. Nonetheless, he patiently waited and walked at a snail's pace while all the while chatting with me about what kind of snowman we'll make. “We can use that old pot with a hole inside it for a hat.” This whole event made me more and more excited and I squealed with joy and stopped on the spot. “We'll check if we have carrots at home for the nose!” I screamed while gesticulating with my hands. “This is hard work, though, my arms are tired.” I said. At that point Dad offered to roll the snowball and I can carry Fifa. I declined his offer because “It's worth