May 19, 2009
By Anonymous

By: Emily Pullen

April 12, 2007, the slowest bus ride of my life. Make that the slowest day. I couldn’t help but get that tingly feeling inside me every 5 minutes. That jumpy, butterfly, excitement kind of feeling. Tick after tick, the second hand on my watch moved as slow as honey pouring freshly out of the jar. There was nothing more that I wanted to see at the moment than my new puppy’s face. “I’m getting a dog,” I told everyone on the bus. Not caring if I knew them or not. My feet tapped the hard, dirty ground several times to a nervous beat. I looked around, my head on a swivel. It was just a normal day for everybody else on the bus, but for me? No, oh no, it was a big day. Finally, the vast tires came to a noisy halt and I sprung out of my seat. I jolted down the 3 small bus steps and looked around. Disappointed that he wasn’t there waiting for me, I took off. Step after step, every binder in my back pack was jumping up and down. I looked up. It seemed as if every dog on the block was looking my way. “Am I doing to be a god owner?” I thought to myself. “What’s he going to be like?” “Cute and funny?” “Or annoying and grumpy?” No, no that’s not possible. He has to, he must, be the best thing possible, in the entire world. Each long stride of mine represented the excitement, hope, love care, and desperate feelings inside me to walk through my front door. Everything was moving faster than me. For the first time, I felt as if my life was in slow motion. As my feet carelessly stepped on each stepping stone in my yard, I felt close to him already. My heart beat was racing, and pacing as if it has somewhere to go. I grabbed the sparkling golden handle on the door, allowing myself into a world of responsibility and care. All the thoughts I had ran through my head. I twisted the sacred handle, lifted my foot up the small step, and entered my front door. His eyes sparkled, his nose twitched and I froze. My backpack dropped to the ground. “This is Luke,” said my mom. Luke, the name of my puppy. I carefully walked over to him, as gentle as can be, and held him in my arms. “He is perfect,” I said. Just as I imagined. Golden-white with a big black nose, and ears that perked up every time he heard something. I felt his heart beat under his puffy fur coat. “Hi Luke,” I whispered in his ear. And for the last time that day, I got that tingly feeling inside me. That jumpy, butterfly, excitement kind of feeling.

The author's comments:
this is a memoir

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