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The Most Beautiful Dog

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I still remember the day that we adopted my dog, Millie, from the shelter. It was March. Flowers were starting to unfold from the fresh, green grass and the air smelled of new beginnings. I was in kindergarten and my teacher, Mrs. Nelson - Linck, told us that we would be having two guests come to our class that day. As usual, she warned us to be polite and on our best behavior for them. Just then a woman came in. She was wearing a pink ball gown, with her hair up in curls and silver shoes on her feet that made her remind me of Glinda the good witch from the wizard of oz. Her personality, however, was far different that of the magical princess I had known to love. She was loud and mean, and had a negative attitude toward everyone. She had something nasty to say about everything. Just when the class had had enough of her, a man walked into the class. He was tall, and wore a worn down hat to cover his scruffy brown hair. His shirt was frayed at the edges, and his jeans had patches of dirt on them. The shoes he was wearing were scuffed and squeaked when he walked. Compared to the woman, he looked pretty scary to us kids. But unlike Glinda the not so good witch, this man was actually kind. He was helpful and considerate and seemed to enjoy talking to us. He would answer any questions we asked and had a positive attitude. Al of us liked this man a lot more than we liked the woman. Mrs. Nelson - Linck then explained to us that it didn't matter what others looked like, it was about how they treated others and the content of their character. She told us we shouldn't judge others based on their appearance, but on how they made us feel. 

That evening, my family and I went up to the Humane society to look at dogs for adoption. When we entered the room the dogs were in, my eyes were immediately drawn to a dog sitting along the back wall. She was tiny, no more than eight pounds, with very little hair and big, buggy eyes. She sat in the corner of her cage, as if she were hiding from everyone in the room. I remembered what my teacher had taught us that day, and immediately told my mom that I had found the dog I wanted. It turns out she had a brother, and that they came together. We took them into the back room and played with them for a few minutes. A few minutes were all we needed to know that these were the dogs for us. We named the sister Millie. 

Millie was a very quiet dog. She rarely barked and never bit anyone. She was a very sweet girl. We had her for eleven years, and even though she recently died, she will always be the most beautiful dog to me. 




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