I thought it might be fun to tell the story of one of our childhood pets, it doesn't have to be a first pet, and it doesn't have to be a cat.
My story is about Scamp, the dog my family owned for 14 years. When my sisters, brother and I were still really young my parents decided it was time for our family to have a small dog. One of my dad's friends from work had a female dog who had just had a litter of about 4 puppies.
The day after the puppies were born, our entire family paid a visit to my dad's friends house to see the puppies. They were part terrier and part chiua (Taco Bell dog) and extremely cute!!! We were told we could have the first choice from the litter and that very same night we choose the puppy who would become our future dog. We were so excited we could hardly wait for the puppy to be old enough to be brought home, so our family had to make several return visits to see the puppies.
We brought him home when he was about 8 weeks old, and poor Scamp cried all night for the first two nights. When he reached his full adult size he was about as big as a cat, and kind of nervous and yappy. This part isn't my fault. Scamp was never neutered and he was very aggressive toward other male dogs, especially if they came into his territory. When he got into fights it was usually with a larger dog like a German Shepard, but fortunately he was never seriously hurt.
Scamp usually stayed inside our fenced-in back yard but occassionally he got to run free. We also took him for a lot of walks, and it was always sooooo embarrassing when we stopped at every single tree and every single fire hydrant. My sister said that Scamp indicated twice that he wanted her to follow him. Both times he lead my sister to two different female dogs with litters of puppies that resembled him, and he seemed to realize he was the father.
Scamp brought our family a lot of joy for many years. I moved away from home, and one morning when Scamp was 14 1/2 years old, my parents found him completely paralyzed on one side and unable to recognize them. My dad and brother took Scamp to vet where they were told he had suffered a massive stroke and nothing more could be done. I was really sad when my dad called me with the bad news. Scamp was buried in my parent's back yard and he is still remembered and talked about by our family.
My story is about Scamp, the dog my family owned for 14 years. When my sisters, brother and I were still really young my parents decided it was time for our family to have a small dog. One of my dad's friends from work had a female dog who had just had a litter of about 4 puppies.
The day after the puppies were born, our entire family paid a visit to my dad's friends house to see the puppies. They were part terrier and part chiua (Taco Bell dog) and extremely cute!!! We were told we could have the first choice from the litter and that very same night we choose the puppy who would become our future dog. We were so excited we could hardly wait for the puppy to be old enough to be brought home, so our family had to make several return visits to see the puppies.
We brought him home when he was about 8 weeks old, and poor Scamp cried all night for the first two nights. When he reached his full adult size he was about as big as a cat, and kind of nervous and yappy. This part isn't my fault. Scamp was never neutered and he was very aggressive toward other male dogs, especially if they came into his territory. When he got into fights it was usually with a larger dog like a German Shepard, but fortunately he was never seriously hurt.
Scamp usually stayed inside our fenced-in back yard but occassionally he got to run free. We also took him for a lot of walks, and it was always sooooo embarrassing when we stopped at every single tree and every single fire hydrant. My sister said that Scamp indicated twice that he wanted her to follow him. Both times he lead my sister to two different female dogs with litters of puppies that resembled him, and he seemed to realize he was the father.
Scamp brought our family a lot of joy for many years. I moved away from home, and one morning when Scamp was 14 1/2 years old, my parents found him completely paralyzed on one side and unable to recognize them. My dad and brother took Scamp to vet where they were told he had suffered a massive stroke and nothing more could be done. I was really sad when my dad called me with the bad news. Scamp was buried in my parent's back yard and he is still remembered and talked about by our family.