Post by Tison on Sept 7, 2008 17:02:54 GMT -5
Well, I had to write a personal essay for my writing class this year, and I was wondering if I could get some feedback. Mind you, it's a rough draft, so it doesn't need to be 100% perfect! xD and ignore the broken down intro. That's the way she wanted it, who knows why! xD
Title: I believe I can fly!
Introduction:
Attention Getter/Lead-in: Whether you believe it or not, not everyone can fly. My dog certainly had a reality check when she “flew” out of my arms and careened to the ground, really hurting her leg and our ears.
General Background about experience: I was in my backyard when my 6 month old westie decided she was going to eat a fiddler crab. I picked her up but she jumped out of my arms, landing awkwardly. She had dislocated her growth plate and was in a cast for at least a month afterwards.
Hint of Meaning (Touch on the discovery that was made as a result of experience): If your dog thinks that she can fly, don’t let her try!
It started off as a normal day, a week after we had taken home a scruffy little westie. She and I were outside, just sort of walking around, when the adventurous little scrap found a fiddler crab. Unbeknownst to me, she was experimentally snapping and trying to destroy the little thing. Let’s just say that West Highland White Terriers have a… delicate stomach, and that letting them eat a fiddler crab is not the best idea if one wants a good night’s sleep in their own bed that has not been covered in whatever the mite’s stomach decided it didn’t like. Finally taking notice of what she was doing when Sadie began to growl, I picked her up to avoid sleeping on the couch. But she would not be distracted that easily.
“NO, Sadie!” I screeched, but it came out no more than a whisper. The pint-sized dog was jumping out of my arms and there wasn’t much I could do to stop her that wouldn’t hurt her as well. Coming out of shock faster than expected, I lunged forward, hoping to grab the delusional flying dog, but my shaking fingers felt nothing but air. My eyes clouded up when I saw just how awkwardly she would land. No, no, no! I grabbed for her once again, but caught naught but a hair as she careened towards the sun-baked earth. I could only watch in horror, my feet frozen, as she landed, safe, but not sound. My face screwed up in pain as she began to screech. She had landed on her leg, and it was extended in a way that didn’t seem natural.
I just stood there, horrified, with my hands over my ears, as my dad came running up the driveway. It’s funny how I can still remember what he had on.
“What happened?” my mom yelled over the continuous droning cry of Sadie, “What’s wrong?” I hadn’t even noticed her coming out of the house.
“I - she jumped out of my arms!” was my stuttered response as Dad tried to pick her up. The crying only got louder, if that was possible, but got softer as she was carried into the garage, which was not the best idea if you intend to be able to hear in the near future, as the gray walls did nothing but echo with the wailing of the “flying dog”. Mom panicked for an impressive 5 seconds before running inside to call the vet while I tried to comfort the poor dog. Everything seemed so normal. The steps, the cars the bikes, the tool bench, there was nothing that suggested that anything had happened out of the ordinary. The one thing that I really remember the most about it was that ringing, ear-splitting sound as we waited. And waited. Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, my mom came out and the 3 of us, four including Sadie, climbed into the midnight blue PT cruiser to take the westie to the emergency vet.
When we arrived, we were taken in almost immediately, probably due to the fact that Sadie was STILL yelping, though not as much as before. The sun sank low in the sky as we waited about 3 hours for results. It turned out that she had not broken her leg, exactly, but merely dislocated a growth plate, which was actually far worse. I learned two things from that exiting afternoon, firstly that not everything can fly, and secondly that you shouldn’t overestimate yourself. It’s okay to take on challenges and everything, but never be certain that you can do something that you’ve never done before. You might just get hurt.
Title: I believe I can fly!
Introduction:
Attention Getter/Lead-in: Whether you believe it or not, not everyone can fly. My dog certainly had a reality check when she “flew” out of my arms and careened to the ground, really hurting her leg and our ears.
General Background about experience: I was in my backyard when my 6 month old westie decided she was going to eat a fiddler crab. I picked her up but she jumped out of my arms, landing awkwardly. She had dislocated her growth plate and was in a cast for at least a month afterwards.
Hint of Meaning (Touch on the discovery that was made as a result of experience): If your dog thinks that she can fly, don’t let her try!
It started off as a normal day, a week after we had taken home a scruffy little westie. She and I were outside, just sort of walking around, when the adventurous little scrap found a fiddler crab. Unbeknownst to me, she was experimentally snapping and trying to destroy the little thing. Let’s just say that West Highland White Terriers have a… delicate stomach, and that letting them eat a fiddler crab is not the best idea if one wants a good night’s sleep in their own bed that has not been covered in whatever the mite’s stomach decided it didn’t like. Finally taking notice of what she was doing when Sadie began to growl, I picked her up to avoid sleeping on the couch. But she would not be distracted that easily.
“NO, Sadie!” I screeched, but it came out no more than a whisper. The pint-sized dog was jumping out of my arms and there wasn’t much I could do to stop her that wouldn’t hurt her as well. Coming out of shock faster than expected, I lunged forward, hoping to grab the delusional flying dog, but my shaking fingers felt nothing but air. My eyes clouded up when I saw just how awkwardly she would land. No, no, no! I grabbed for her once again, but caught naught but a hair as she careened towards the sun-baked earth. I could only watch in horror, my feet frozen, as she landed, safe, but not sound. My face screwed up in pain as she began to screech. She had landed on her leg, and it was extended in a way that didn’t seem natural.
I just stood there, horrified, with my hands over my ears, as my dad came running up the driveway. It’s funny how I can still remember what he had on.
“What happened?” my mom yelled over the continuous droning cry of Sadie, “What’s wrong?” I hadn’t even noticed her coming out of the house.
“I - she jumped out of my arms!” was my stuttered response as Dad tried to pick her up. The crying only got louder, if that was possible, but got softer as she was carried into the garage, which was not the best idea if you intend to be able to hear in the near future, as the gray walls did nothing but echo with the wailing of the “flying dog”. Mom panicked for an impressive 5 seconds before running inside to call the vet while I tried to comfort the poor dog. Everything seemed so normal. The steps, the cars the bikes, the tool bench, there was nothing that suggested that anything had happened out of the ordinary. The one thing that I really remember the most about it was that ringing, ear-splitting sound as we waited. And waited. Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, my mom came out and the 3 of us, four including Sadie, climbed into the midnight blue PT cruiser to take the westie to the emergency vet.
When we arrived, we were taken in almost immediately, probably due to the fact that Sadie was STILL yelping, though not as much as before. The sun sank low in the sky as we waited about 3 hours for results. It turned out that she had not broken her leg, exactly, but merely dislocated a growth plate, which was actually far worse. I learned two things from that exiting afternoon, firstly that not everything can fly, and secondly that you shouldn’t overestimate yourself. It’s okay to take on challenges and everything, but never be certain that you can do something that you’ve never done before. You might just get hurt.