The Eighth Wonder of the World

This is a story about a girl and her dog. A great dog who helps Sandy Bolton conquer her fears and helps her through her life.


4. .

   I bring him into our house. He goes around the corner and into the living room, sniffing everything. He jumps up on a chair and sits sort of like a person.

   I throw my book bag on the kitchen table.

   "Now don't make yourself at home, Briscoe, I still need to make sure that Taylor is alright with having a dog."

    I sit on the couch diagonal from where he is sitting and turn on the TV. He trots over towards me, jumps on the couch, circles a couple times, then finally lies down next to me.

   "You are too cute."

   He plops his head down on my lap.

   I begin to rub his head.

   SpongeBob bounces across the TV and Patrick follows. Plankton comes behind them looking very furious. He starts to shoot a laser gun at them but misses each time.

    Briscoe barks as if to say turn the channel. I'm guessing he's not into SpongeBob. I turn the channel to Looney Toons.

    Briscoe barks again.

    "Well, what's your idea of killing time, Briscoe?"

    He runs towards the cream door and starts to scratch it.

    "Outside? Oh! I see, you probably have to go to the restroom. Here you go."

    I open up the door and Briscoe shoots outside.

    "Wait? Where are you going?"

    He keeps running, and doesn't even turn around to acknowledge my voice yelling for him.

    I stand there for about 5 minutes, watching his brown body turn to a dot in the horizon.

    Well, so much for my interesting summer.

    I walk back inside and sit back down on the couch. I continue to watch Looney Toons for the next 3 hours


     "What's up sis?" Taylor says as she walks in with groceries in her hand.

     "Not much, school was boring, as always." I reply

     "Well, you know what, life sucks. But." She points her finger at me and swirls it around "I am going to try to save up enough money so you and i can do something fun."

    "Cool, that would be nice if we had a change of schedule."

    I walk out the door to the old, beat up, grey Honda, and pull out the groceries. I look off into the distance looking for Briscoe. He didn't seem to want to come back. I sigh, and shut the trunk. I make my way back into the house and start to put away the groceries.


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