personal narrative
Mango
Sometimes, life has a funny way of throwing you for a loop, an “expect the unexpected” ordeal. I have found that dogs choose us, we do not choose them; they happen to come into our lives at the right time. We live in a fast-paced society where we are always on the go, and pets have a sense of making you feel whole and present in the moment – I think we could all learn a thing or two from them. The day I met the dog who changed my life ended up blowing my expectations of being a dog owner out of the water, and I think that is exactly how God intended for it to go.
The leaves were a murky brown and Alabamian snow covered the grass (i.e. cold dirt mixed with a few ice chips) on Christmas Day in 2017. After working a disgustingly early opening shift at Starbucks, I am talking 4:30am, the last thing I wanted to do was lollygag. With my mom barking into the phone in one ear, and my boyfriend, Elliot, chattering in the other ear, it was inevitable that I would get any peace during this excruciatingly long drive to my sister’s house. Just as I am parking and trying to wrap up several “okay” and “love you too” statements with my mom, I am faced with quite the situation.
Elliot quickly gets my attention, “Haley! Get off the phone – there’s a dog!” Ha! Say no more, I will take any reason to get off the phone with my mom. We quickly discovered this was not an ordinary dog; her ribcage stuck out like a sore thumb, and her hipbones were sickly defined. Her snow white fur had been painted with black dots from being infested with fleas and ticks, and to be frank, she appeared half dead. The closer we got to her, the further she scurried from us – a typical “cat and mouse”; however, this was no game. This went on for a good ten minutes until we decided to head inside and be greeted by the sweet smell of freshly baked cinnamon rolls. In-between bites, we peered through the window to see if we could get our eyes on the pup. We watched as she sulked back to her mama, who too appeared unhealthy due to the condition of her hollowed torso. Ready to turn our back and let the stray go, we decided to peek one last time; thank God we did. It was evident that this puppy was not going to make it through the winter, and apparently her mom knew that as well. Before our eyes we saw a puppy no bigger than a fattened guinea pig wander off to jump in the leaves – once she was out of her mother’s sight, the mother bolted and left the puppy to fend for herself. We patiently waited for what felt like hours, but in reality was probably twenty minutes, to see if her mom would come back for her, but [un]fortunately she never showed. So, we bit the bullet and got on either side of her, scooped her up, and brought her inside. We were not sure how long she would live, but we were eager to make the rest of her life worthwhile.
We decided on the name Mango – it had a nice ring to it. “Well, we named her. There is no way we can take her to the animal shelter now.”, a sentence Elliot and I almost simultaneously said to one another. The first day leading into our first night with Mango was far from a picnic – whimpering at the sight of our hands, she hardly let us touch her, which was difficult given she needed a bath. Badly. After endless sleepless nights and sappy puppy cries from her kennel, she finally decided to trust us. It took several trial and errors to get sweet Mango to let us pet and love on her. I understood though, her whole world had been turned upside down; she did not understand the concept of human contact. However, once she learned to love, she loved fiercely. We were lucky enough to experience a lot of ‘firsts’ with her; from getting a bath, to eating solid foods, to learning how to ask to go outside to use the bathroom, and to learning how to sit (cutely, might I add) for a treat, we knew her home was with us. Now with it being football season, if you shout “roll tide”, you may experience a precious Mango at your feet rolling for biscuits.
Elliot and I could not ask for a better dog – Mango is giving me my “once in a lifetime” dog-ownership experience; while I am sure down the road we will adopt another (or three), she is the standard and there will not be another quite like her. Without fail, every day when I come home, she is laying down on her favorite cloud patterned blanket in front of our living room window that faces the driveway, with the top of her gigantic cone ears and her shiny eyes being the only thing I can see. The days where I walk in the door with sweat dripping down my face and tears in my eyes from sheer exhaustion and stress, she is eagerly wagging her tail with her tongue out, greeting me and ready to play. The days where I can hardly get out of bed, she lays on me and comforts me; just her presence brings me peace. Mango’s dependence on us truly helps to get through the rough days – without us, there would not be anyone to care for her. Although I need her almost as much as she needs me, it rips my heart when Elliot or I have long days and we are not able to spend the full time with her that she deserves. Being a full time student and working upwards of thirty hours a week really puts a weight on what my options are for free time. I have learned to balance my free time with going to dog-friendly areas to get school work done, or exercising outside so she can get a run in as well. Balance is a little word with a lot of meaning, and we are doing our best; Mango does not seem to complain too much, especially on the nights she gets to sleep in bed with us – with her stuffed llama too, of course.
Despite the hardships that come with puppy training, it is worth it, honest. Pets give a sense of groundedness that is vital for surviving in the fast-paced society we live in. Mango has changed my life for the better, and without her, life would not be as colorful as it is now. The world would be a better place if we could all just slow down and pet a dog.
Sometimes, life has a funny way of throwing you for a loop, an “expect the unexpected” ordeal. I have found that dogs choose us, we do not choose them; they happen to come into our lives at the right time. We live in a fast-paced society where we are always on the go, and pets have a sense of making you feel whole and present in the moment – I think we could all learn a thing or two from them. The day I met the dog who changed my life ended up blowing my expectations of being a dog owner out of the water, and I think that is exactly how God intended for it to go.
The leaves were a murky brown and Alabamian snow covered the grass (i.e. cold dirt mixed with a few ice chips) on Christmas Day in 2017. After working a disgustingly early opening shift at Starbucks, I am talking 4:30am, the last thing I wanted to do was lollygag. With my mom barking into the phone in one ear, and my boyfriend, Elliot, chattering in the other ear, it was inevitable that I would get any peace during this excruciatingly long drive to my sister’s house. Just as I am parking and trying to wrap up several “okay” and “love you too” statements with my mom, I am faced with quite the situation.
Elliot quickly gets my attention, “Haley! Get off the phone – there’s a dog!” Ha! Say no more, I will take any reason to get off the phone with my mom. We quickly discovered this was not an ordinary dog; her ribcage stuck out like a sore thumb, and her hipbones were sickly defined. Her snow white fur had been painted with black dots from being infested with fleas and ticks, and to be frank, she appeared half dead. The closer we got to her, the further she scurried from us – a typical “cat and mouse”; however, this was no game. This went on for a good ten minutes until we decided to head inside and be greeted by the sweet smell of freshly baked cinnamon rolls. In-between bites, we peered through the window to see if we could get our eyes on the pup. We watched as she sulked back to her mama, who too appeared unhealthy due to the condition of her hollowed torso. Ready to turn our back and let the stray go, we decided to peek one last time; thank God we did. It was evident that this puppy was not going to make it through the winter, and apparently her mom knew that as well. Before our eyes we saw a puppy no bigger than a fattened guinea pig wander off to jump in the leaves – once she was out of her mother’s sight, the mother bolted and left the puppy to fend for herself. We patiently waited for what felt like hours, but in reality was probably twenty minutes, to see if her mom would come back for her, but [un]fortunately she never showed. So, we bit the bullet and got on either side of her, scooped her up, and brought her inside. We were not sure how long she would live, but we were eager to make the rest of her life worthwhile.
We decided on the name Mango – it had a nice ring to it. “Well, we named her. There is no way we can take her to the animal shelter now.”, a sentence Elliot and I almost simultaneously said to one another. The first day leading into our first night with Mango was far from a picnic – whimpering at the sight of our hands, she hardly let us touch her, which was difficult given she needed a bath. Badly. After endless sleepless nights and sappy puppy cries from her kennel, she finally decided to trust us. It took several trial and errors to get sweet Mango to let us pet and love on her. I understood though, her whole world had been turned upside down; she did not understand the concept of human contact. However, once she learned to love, she loved fiercely. We were lucky enough to experience a lot of ‘firsts’ with her; from getting a bath, to eating solid foods, to learning how to ask to go outside to use the bathroom, and to learning how to sit (cutely, might I add) for a treat, we knew her home was with us. Now with it being football season, if you shout “roll tide”, you may experience a precious Mango at your feet rolling for biscuits.
Elliot and I could not ask for a better dog – Mango is giving me my “once in a lifetime” dog-ownership experience; while I am sure down the road we will adopt another (or three), she is the standard and there will not be another quite like her. Without fail, every day when I come home, she is laying down on her favorite cloud patterned blanket in front of our living room window that faces the driveway, with the top of her gigantic cone ears and her shiny eyes being the only thing I can see. The days where I walk in the door with sweat dripping down my face and tears in my eyes from sheer exhaustion and stress, she is eagerly wagging her tail with her tongue out, greeting me and ready to play. The days where I can hardly get out of bed, she lays on me and comforts me; just her presence brings me peace. Mango’s dependence on us truly helps to get through the rough days – without us, there would not be anyone to care for her. Although I need her almost as much as she needs me, it rips my heart when Elliot or I have long days and we are not able to spend the full time with her that she deserves. Being a full time student and working upwards of thirty hours a week really puts a weight on what my options are for free time. I have learned to balance my free time with going to dog-friendly areas to get school work done, or exercising outside so she can get a run in as well. Balance is a little word with a lot of meaning, and we are doing our best; Mango does not seem to complain too much, especially on the nights she gets to sleep in bed with us – with her stuffed llama too, of course.
Despite the hardships that come with puppy training, it is worth it, honest. Pets give a sense of groundedness that is vital for surviving in the fast-paced society we live in. Mango has changed my life for the better, and without her, life would not be as colorful as it is now. The world would be a better place if we could all just slow down and pet a dog.
reflection
Towards the beginning of my personal narrative, I felt stuck. The topic I chose was on my dog, Mango, and I was determined to have a well thought out message; in order to achieve that, I had to go over my introduction at least 10x to make sure it sounded alright.
While writing the story of how Mango came to be ours, I was stumped on how to properly execute it. The description and word flow was very important to me because I wanted to capture the emotion behind the whole experience.
Comments from my peers during the peer review section really helped me to better my descriptive text, and to branch out to better describe the way Mango looked and the emotion behind the situation. From the student conference, I was able to walk away with a better understanding as to how to write a solid introduction and conclusion paragraph. Activities throughout lectures really helped me have a better grasp of being able to relay my message to others and it helped me better understand how to read other personal narratives and put myself in their shoes so to speak.
Two week ago, I would have told myself to be as descriptive as possible -- the more detail, the better. When it came to me writing my personal narrative, I found that my most unproductive time was spent overthinking what was supposed to come next. My personal narrative was about my sweet dog, Mango, and the ideas should have flowed freely. For the future, I will be sure to include many details that will make the reader feel as if he/she were there when the story took place.
While writing the story of how Mango came to be ours, I was stumped on how to properly execute it. The description and word flow was very important to me because I wanted to capture the emotion behind the whole experience.
Comments from my peers during the peer review section really helped me to better my descriptive text, and to branch out to better describe the way Mango looked and the emotion behind the situation. From the student conference, I was able to walk away with a better understanding as to how to write a solid introduction and conclusion paragraph. Activities throughout lectures really helped me have a better grasp of being able to relay my message to others and it helped me better understand how to read other personal narratives and put myself in their shoes so to speak.
Two week ago, I would have told myself to be as descriptive as possible -- the more detail, the better. When it came to me writing my personal narrative, I found that my most unproductive time was spent overthinking what was supposed to come next. My personal narrative was about my sweet dog, Mango, and the ideas should have flowed freely. For the future, I will be sure to include many details that will make the reader feel as if he/she were there when the story took place.