Truffles and Remy

I got my dogs, Truffles and Remy, 2 years ago in Febuary. My mom literally just mentioned it out of the blue. We were out and about, for no reason in particular, and when we drove past Pet Co, she just randomly said “Hey, we should stop by Pet Co to get some stuff for the dogs!” My sister and I, thinking it was joke because my sister had been asking for a dog for nearly 8 years, never with with a yes, but only with a maybe, just laughed it off, but my dad agreed, and after a few minutes of convincing, we finally believed we were getting 2, 8 week old, 4 pound schnoodles. My sister and I were thrilled, and couldn’t wait for the day they were brought home. Finally, a week later, my dad hobbled into the kitchen carrying a large, gray crate. Bouncing with excitement, we all knelt on the floor, and my dad had just barely lifted the latch, when a tiny, furry, mass of black streaked across the room, and circled around to face us. Remy stared at us with big coal eyes, his pink tongue lolling out over his white “goatee”. He yipped at us for a while (we later called it “talking”), and finally started padding toward us. First, he sniffed around the kitchen, then, recognizing my dad from when he picked them up, placed his small paws on his knees and yipped at him some more. We were so caught up in Remy, we completely almost forgot about his sister. When I peeked into the crate, I saw a pair of fearful, deep brown eyes staring back at me. My mom delicately lifted the back of the crate, and I started coaxing Truffles out. She timidly stepped out, but froze the second she saw us. We let the dogs be for the rest of the evening, thinking we had gotten a bouncy, hyper schnoodle and a shy schnoodle. We had no idea what little Truffles would grow up to be. Today, she prances around the house, waking my parents up in the middle of the night, and jumping on my bed at 3am. Her brother does the same, but he has his own things, too. We’ve made silly names for every single one of them. When he balances his back against the back of the couch on his head, we say he is “crackering”. When he barks at us for no reason, he is “talking”. We are so happy we got our dogs, and they have made our lives a lot more enjoyable.

Truffles and Remy

I got my dogs, Truffles and Remy, 2 years ago in Febuary. My mom literally just mentioned it out of the blue. We were out and about, for no reason in particular, and when we drove past Pet Co, she just randomly said “Hey, we should stop by Pet Co to get some stuff for the dogs!” My sister and I, thinking it was joke because my sister had been asking for a dog for nearly 8 years, never with with a yes, but only with a maybe, just laughed it off, but my dad agreed, and after a few minutes of convincing, we finally believed we were getting 2, 8 week old, 4 pound schnoodles. My sister and I were thrilled, and couldn’t wait for the day they were brought home. Finally, a week later, my dad hobbled into the kitchen carrying a large, gray crate. Bouncing with excitement, we all knelt on the floor, and my dad had just barely lifted the latch, when a tiny, furry, mass of black streaked across the room, and circled around to face us. Remy stared at us with big coal eyes, his pink tongue lolling out over his white “goatee”. He yipped at us for a while (we later called it “talking”), and finally started padding toward us. First, he sniffed around the kitchen, then, recognizing my dad from when he picked them up, placed his small paws on his knees and yipped at him some more. We were so caught up in Remy, we completely almost forgot about his sister. When I peeked into the crate, I saw a pair of fearful, deep brown eyes staring back at me. My mom delicately lifted the back of the crate, and I started coaxing Truffles out. She timidly stepped out, but froze the second she saw us. We let the dogs be for the rest of the evening, thinking we had gotten a bouncy, hyper schnoodle and a shy schnoodle. We had no idea what little Truffles would grow up to be. Today, she prances around the house, waking my parents up in the middle of the night, and jumping on my bed at 3am. Her brother does the same, but he has his own things, too. We’ve made silly names for every single one of them. When he balances his back against the back of the couch on his head, we say he is “crackering”. When he barks at us for no reason, he is “talking”. We are so happy we got our dogs, and they have made our lives a lot more enjoyable.

Running

For some reason, when I hear “Jog up to the track and run three laps”, I groan and complain, but when the coach tells us to WALK three laps through the hallways, my friend Jane and I end up sprinting the majority of it, talking, and laughing. On the track, it’s all panting, gasping, and trying to ignore the burning in your lungs and calves. I don’t know if it’s the perfect temperature, the material I’m running on, or just the pure enjoyment of seeing my classmates bewildered faces as I race freely through the hall that makes me enjoy running inside more than I like running outside.