When I was about three years old my mom had to put our dog down. The dog and I, well... let's just say we weren't best friends. He would bite me, scratch me, and leave marks all on me. My mom also did not like him, so it was time to say goodbye. I didn't really know Pugsley that well. All I know was he was a vicious little dog.
Ever since we put him down I had begged my mom to get me a dog, a little puppy that I could hold in my arms and call her my pup. My mom probably wanted to slap me. I was asking and asking day and night. To even get one I would bet with my dad. When I played softball when I was much younger, I would bet with my dad if I hit the ball past the fence then I would get a dog. Yeah, well, that never happened. I knew someday, eventually, in the future I would have a dog.
It was an ordinary October day in the first grade, writing sentences, reading them to the class, going to lunch, and then my favorite part of the day: recess. My class had about twenty people in it, and when our teacher was telling us information, none of us had a clue what was going on. As I am in the middle of writing a typical not so good first grade sentence our teacher said, “Time to go to lunch.” I was ecstatic that it was time for lunch because that meant recess. I had my typical lunch that I had everyday, pasta with marinara sauce, water, clementine, and a type of chips.
After lunch and recess we came back into the freezing dull classroom where our teacher was standing there waiting for us. As I went back to sit in the red chair, I looked back at the window where I could see someone with curly brown hair standing there. The door opened, and it was my sister. I had a puzzled face when she came through. I was the most confused I had ever been. I thought was I in trouble, did something happen in my family, or was it my lucky day and my mom just missed me so much. She missed me so much maybe I was going home. My teacher tried to look confused also but I felt like she knew something was happening. My sister “ Kayla” told me to come with her, and I was very confused about what was going on. We went through the principal's office and outside to the front where my mom sat in her black Honda Pilot in front of the school.
I had no idea what was going on, maybe I was going home, no because I didn't have my belongings. My mom came around to the other side of the car and I looked in her arms and there she was holding this little tiny one pound dog what looked like. I was screaming and shouting, “Is this ours?! Is this ours?!”
“Yes, Zoe, this is our new dog. Your dad found her at the shelter the other day and thought she was the perfect dog.” My mom handed me this fragile looking grayish black yorkie puppy. I had the biggest smile on my face. It was one of the best feelings in the world, over contented and crying because I was so happy and full of excitement. My mom went into the office and wrote me an excuse to take me home, I was overjoyed. My heart beating, my mouth hurting because I was smiling so much, and the tears almost falling. Happy tears not sad.
That day we got home and we had to come up with a name for her. Knowing me then I was not good at this. I would think of names that would have to do with candy mostly or the strangest name you've ever heard. It was about “9 PM”, and we finally found just the right name, Bella. Bella was the most precious little puppy I had ever met. The day we got her was one of the best days of my life. Bella and I, well… let's just say we are best friends. Whenever I need a smile I go to her, she licks me, snuggles with me, barks at me, and loves me … at least that's what I think.