Can't sleep, so I finished an essay up that I had only barely started last night. My grammar is not always the best, so any help would be nice.
You can download the Word Version here, or read below:
I?ve faced many personal tribulations and demons over the twenty-three years of my life. Some have been things out of my control ? such as death, depression or loneliness ? but others have been of my own doing. Things such as addiction, a lack of successful accomplishments, and my personal treatment of other individuals were problems that I could do something about. However, I truly believed that the uncontrollable could at least be tempered ? or at least give me enough of a respite ? so that I could move forward in my life. Loneliness was something that plagued me, and I firmly felt it was out of my control. I had plenty of friends and family and that?s enough for most people ? but not for me.
After moving away from home and living on my own for several years, I was finally able to purchase a home of my own. My family came to visit with gifts and advice, and after several months my home had finally attained a reasonable level of domestic tranquility. Much too tranquil in fact. I was lonely. Phone calls, visits by friends and family, and even all the Internet and TV I could handle did little to alleviate that gnawing feeling of being lonely. What kind of change or solution would help? Then, in a moment of clarity, I realized what I needed to do. Get a pet!
Getting a pet that you are solely responsible for is not an easy decision. Would I be able to provide the necessary time, care, and love? All those doubts were over once I entered the pet supply store and saw all the little puppies and cats in their cages. The dogs wagged their tails and barked, while the cats slowly turned in their cages musing about what was creating the ruckus. There was a plethora to choose from, and I asked myself if I should get a cat or a dog? I grew up with cats, so I thought that would be my ticket to happiness. But wait, would a cat really provide a sense of companionship and loyalty? I hesitated and mulled over the best course of action. Finally, I decided a dog was exactly what I needed. Now the decision came down to which one!
The Blue Heeler looked so sad pacing and turning in his cage. He was six-months old, and was a venerable Methuselah compared to all the little puppies that were frolicking in their cages. This was a Humane Society run adoption center, so I knew that he wouldn?t stay indefinitely ? they are not a no-kill shelter. However, the events around me didn?t let me pick him. A young couple was also in the adoption area, and they had just adopted one of two litter mates. They happily led their new charge away, and the remaining pup was frantic. She barked, whined, and threw herself up against her cage. Her sister was gone, and what could she do about it? Instantly, my decision was made for me. Divine intervention? Perhaps.
I immediately asked the adoption worker what breed she was, and if she was available for adoption today. Of course she was! Now, as to what breed? Only God could answer that sordid question. After asking a few more questions, I was assured that she had great temperament, and would be a perfect companion. Let?s just be frank and say that the adoption worker was either a protégé of Richard Scrushy, or entirely out of his gourd! The rest of the paperwork was filled out, I paid my fee, and then my new dog and I went to go pick out supplies and toys.
After getting her home, it was apparent that her shelter name would have to go. She was originally named Callie, but I had a good friend by that name, and to prevent delusions of grandeur on either of their part ? it had to be changed. My new puppy had large floppy ears, a white belly, massive paws, and a black coat. Her legs, however, were of a coffee almost copper brown color. Would Coffee work as a name? Eww. I don?t want a dog named after a beverage. Way too cliché, and certainly wouldn?t win me any points with my mother. My mother is a firm believer that animals are quite human, and because of such they are deserving of human names. I was baffled at this point ? something was telling me to name her after this distinctive color, but what was the name of it? Suddenly it occurred to me ? I had not spent my younger years coloring in vain! Burnt ienna was the color I was looking for, but of course the burnt aspect of it had to go. Sienna was my new friend, puppy, and family member.
As a family member, Sienna decided to defy conventional wisdom. Housetraining and following commands? The worst two year old toddler in the world would be a breeze compared to Sienna. That ?good temperament? she was labeled with ending up being more of a running joke to my family and friends than a true description of her behavior. But she is a free spirit, and as loyal as a dog can be. That does not mean she follows orders or realizes I am the alpha dog. She is an escape artist. Fort Knox, a platoon of Marines, and all the electronic gizmos in the world wouldn?t prevent her from running free. Sienna darts outside anytime the door is open for more than a second. A fence is only a silly, rudimentary device that was made to be circumvented by simple digging. Silly humans I?m sure she thinks ? don?t they just understand I want to be free?
Sienna?s lust for freedom is but one of her unique traits. Touching any part of her paws or tail is grounds for immediate snapping of her jaws. She never bites to hurt ? or even to break the skin, but she makes it clear that those areas of her body are off limits. Other dogs are simply victims for her nonstop sense of play and tricks. I?d come home from a day at work or class, and she?d be lying on the front porch panting. She had escaped again. Her victims were no doubt scattered throughout the neighborhood -- ruing the very day they encountered her endless motor. Oh she is fast! I can always count on her to run beside my car at forty miles-per-hour if I am unable to catch her before leaving. Not even an ounce of hyperbole is being used to describe her speed.
The effect that Sienna?s company had on me is profound. No longer do I dread coming home from work or school. I have a friend at home ? one that always wants to play ? and one that always wants to see me. Instead of sharing my bed with her ? puppy beds are not her forte ? she generously allows me to share her bed. I no longer worry about an intruder in the middle of the night, or unexpected company startling me. If a tire touches the road twenty-seven miles away, she is at the door and barking a warning. I began to feel a special relationship. This is truly what a pet is meant to be! Not some cat that sleeps all day and barely acknowledges your presence. I feel welcome and wanted in my own home, and that really helped to cure my loneliness. Knowing that Sienna needed a playmate while I was gone, she now has a brother named Grissom. Grissom is no less special than Sienna, but is a story of his own. Their love for each other and for me has made that gnawing feeling of loneliness all but disappear. I realize that they will both be gone one day, but until then I have a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment. With their help I managed to vanquish one of my personal demons. That alone is proof that dogs truly are Man?s best friend.
Edit: Fusetalk didn't properly format it, so let me try to fix it.
You can download the Word Version here, or read below:
I?ve faced many personal tribulations and demons over the twenty-three years of my life. Some have been things out of my control ? such as death, depression or loneliness ? but others have been of my own doing. Things such as addiction, a lack of successful accomplishments, and my personal treatment of other individuals were problems that I could do something about. However, I truly believed that the uncontrollable could at least be tempered ? or at least give me enough of a respite ? so that I could move forward in my life. Loneliness was something that plagued me, and I firmly felt it was out of my control. I had plenty of friends and family and that?s enough for most people ? but not for me.
After moving away from home and living on my own for several years, I was finally able to purchase a home of my own. My family came to visit with gifts and advice, and after several months my home had finally attained a reasonable level of domestic tranquility. Much too tranquil in fact. I was lonely. Phone calls, visits by friends and family, and even all the Internet and TV I could handle did little to alleviate that gnawing feeling of being lonely. What kind of change or solution would help? Then, in a moment of clarity, I realized what I needed to do. Get a pet!
Getting a pet that you are solely responsible for is not an easy decision. Would I be able to provide the necessary time, care, and love? All those doubts were over once I entered the pet supply store and saw all the little puppies and cats in their cages. The dogs wagged their tails and barked, while the cats slowly turned in their cages musing about what was creating the ruckus. There was a plethora to choose from, and I asked myself if I should get a cat or a dog? I grew up with cats, so I thought that would be my ticket to happiness. But wait, would a cat really provide a sense of companionship and loyalty? I hesitated and mulled over the best course of action. Finally, I decided a dog was exactly what I needed. Now the decision came down to which one!
The Blue Heeler looked so sad pacing and turning in his cage. He was six-months old, and was a venerable Methuselah compared to all the little puppies that were frolicking in their cages. This was a Humane Society run adoption center, so I knew that he wouldn?t stay indefinitely ? they are not a no-kill shelter. However, the events around me didn?t let me pick him. A young couple was also in the adoption area, and they had just adopted one of two litter mates. They happily led their new charge away, and the remaining pup was frantic. She barked, whined, and threw herself up against her cage. Her sister was gone, and what could she do about it? Instantly, my decision was made for me. Divine intervention? Perhaps.
I immediately asked the adoption worker what breed she was, and if she was available for adoption today. Of course she was! Now, as to what breed? Only God could answer that sordid question. After asking a few more questions, I was assured that she had great temperament, and would be a perfect companion. Let?s just be frank and say that the adoption worker was either a protégé of Richard Scrushy, or entirely out of his gourd! The rest of the paperwork was filled out, I paid my fee, and then my new dog and I went to go pick out supplies and toys.
After getting her home, it was apparent that her shelter name would have to go. She was originally named Callie, but I had a good friend by that name, and to prevent delusions of grandeur on either of their part ? it had to be changed. My new puppy had large floppy ears, a white belly, massive paws, and a black coat. Her legs, however, were of a coffee almost copper brown color. Would Coffee work as a name? Eww. I don?t want a dog named after a beverage. Way too cliché, and certainly wouldn?t win me any points with my mother. My mother is a firm believer that animals are quite human, and because of such they are deserving of human names. I was baffled at this point ? something was telling me to name her after this distinctive color, but what was the name of it? Suddenly it occurred to me ? I had not spent my younger years coloring in vain! Burnt ienna was the color I was looking for, but of course the burnt aspect of it had to go. Sienna was my new friend, puppy, and family member.
As a family member, Sienna decided to defy conventional wisdom. Housetraining and following commands? The worst two year old toddler in the world would be a breeze compared to Sienna. That ?good temperament? she was labeled with ending up being more of a running joke to my family and friends than a true description of her behavior. But she is a free spirit, and as loyal as a dog can be. That does not mean she follows orders or realizes I am the alpha dog. She is an escape artist. Fort Knox, a platoon of Marines, and all the electronic gizmos in the world wouldn?t prevent her from running free. Sienna darts outside anytime the door is open for more than a second. A fence is only a silly, rudimentary device that was made to be circumvented by simple digging. Silly humans I?m sure she thinks ? don?t they just understand I want to be free?
Sienna?s lust for freedom is but one of her unique traits. Touching any part of her paws or tail is grounds for immediate snapping of her jaws. She never bites to hurt ? or even to break the skin, but she makes it clear that those areas of her body are off limits. Other dogs are simply victims for her nonstop sense of play and tricks. I?d come home from a day at work or class, and she?d be lying on the front porch panting. She had escaped again. Her victims were no doubt scattered throughout the neighborhood -- ruing the very day they encountered her endless motor. Oh she is fast! I can always count on her to run beside my car at forty miles-per-hour if I am unable to catch her before leaving. Not even an ounce of hyperbole is being used to describe her speed.
The effect that Sienna?s company had on me is profound. No longer do I dread coming home from work or school. I have a friend at home ? one that always wants to play ? and one that always wants to see me. Instead of sharing my bed with her ? puppy beds are not her forte ? she generously allows me to share her bed. I no longer worry about an intruder in the middle of the night, or unexpected company startling me. If a tire touches the road twenty-seven miles away, she is at the door and barking a warning. I began to feel a special relationship. This is truly what a pet is meant to be! Not some cat that sleeps all day and barely acknowledges your presence. I feel welcome and wanted in my own home, and that really helped to cure my loneliness. Knowing that Sienna needed a playmate while I was gone, she now has a brother named Grissom. Grissom is no less special than Sienna, but is a story of his own. Their love for each other and for me has made that gnawing feeling of loneliness all but disappear. I realize that they will both be gone one day, but until then I have a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment. With their help I managed to vanquish one of my personal demons. That alone is proof that dogs truly are Man?s best friend.
Edit: Fusetalk didn't properly format it, so let me try to fix it.
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