I remember getting my first dog in kindergarten at merely the age of four or five. Her name was Mini. A small white dog. She was the definition of tougher than she looks. She was a fighter ... or more so a predator. Since the day I met her she was a wondering mess exploring my grandparents home. Ripped off the shirt my aunt had sewn her. She was a good dog, and she loved every single one of us. I admire her strength and her courage. I'm proud to say she was and will always be my spirit animal.
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Creative Writing course
RandomPretty much some of the work we had to do. Which no one probably cares about lmfao
