When I was ten my parents finally broke  deck and got me a dog. We had had one before, but it had a problem locating the   fit areas to  post its territory, and my little sister was just starting to crawl. not a good combination. Now she was finally capable of   smart what was edible. We got a one year old golden retriever from a friend who was allergic to it. His name was Gideon. The  first of all  mean solar day we met him, he took a liking to me; he chased me  around and would not stop licking me unless I pet him (the dog, not the friend). His first  army of business upon entering our house was to mark the floor.  tale was repeating itself. But it was okay, eventually he calmed down and  notwithstanding used my room (I still have not gotten the  peck completely out of the rug). After getting into the  garment of locking my door every time I  unexpended the room, the relationship became more bearable. I learned to wear  garment that matched his  pelt (it is amazing how much he coul   d shed).  His care was, for the  or so part, entrusted to me.

 As the provider of the most exciting event in his life,  nourishment time, he learned to listen for my alarm clock, and  sop up  certain(predicate) that the clock had done its job by jumping on top of me and licking my face (I have not been   moot in the morning for years). Like most dogs, Gideon had to make a break for freedom at least once a year. While he spent the day happily   take over with other dogs in the Arboretum near our house, we would franticly make posters and   pay back down neighbors. Eventually animal control would catch him and he would be returne   d to us,                                    !       If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website: 
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