by
Patricia
once had a pet dog which I named Harry. Harry was a very loyal dog. He came to me as a christmas present from my aunt who died a week after that. I'll tell you about him...That christmas evening, when I was alone in the living room, I suddenly heard a few knocks on the door. I jumped up and immediately answered the door. There, in the midst of the blizzard outside, was the telegram boy. He handed me a parcel with holes pocked in it but most of them were covered with snow. Then he said, "Mrs. Ponsery asked me to send this to Miss Trina Mann who lives in this house." I thanked him for sending it and closed the door. I was actually the Miss Trina Mann he was talking about, therefore this parcel belonged to me! I was so excited! With shaking hands, I tore open the wrapper. There, in-front-of me was a cute little puppy! Neither words nor letters could tell how happy I was. Just then, my family (mum, dad and brother, John) rushed downstairs to answer the door. But instead of hearing any knocks, they saw me cuddling a little puppy. It wasn't surprising why she gave it to me instead of my brother, the reason was that I was her favourite niece, her most favourite thing on earth. After a long discussion, we all agreed to keep it. After all, my aunt had given me her life-long dog's only puppy! I was ready to show her how well I could keep it and please her. That week that my aunt died, I grieved for her. After the funeral, I promised her in heaven that I would take good care of the dog she gave me and would fulfill her wish in the letter to tae good care of it. Whenever I look at that puppy, which is grown up now, I look at my dead aunt's beautiful face.
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