A dog has been called man's best friend. What about kids? My dog was the best friend I ever had.
My name is Molly. I am nine years old. I have two brothers. One is four years older than I am. One is two years younger than I am. I do not remember much about the day I was born. My mom and dad remember the day. They tell me how excited they were to meet me. They remember seeing me for the first time. Dad says I have Mom's eyes. Mom says I have Dad's smile. My brother remembers spending the night at Grandma's house. He also remembers wishing that I were a puppy instead of a girl.
My brother got his wish. Two weeks after I was born we got a puppy. She was only six weeks old. She was all black. She had sad eyes. She had floppy ears. My brother got to name her. He chose Charlie.
I do not remember getting her. My mom said that the day we got her, she cuddled up next to my baby seat. My dad said that everywhere I went, the puppy followed. She slept in my room. When I was old enough to sit up, she would bring her dog toys and put them in front of me. When I was old enough to walk, she followed closely. It was like she was there to catch me if I fell. My first word was Charlie except it did not come out very clear. It did not matter because she knew I was talking to her.
As I got older, so did Charlie. Each morning she would wake me up. She put her nose on my shoulder and sniffed really loud. I would wake up with a smile and give her a hug. When I ate my breakfast, Charlie ate hers. She always knew that I would save the last bite for her.
Charlie loved to play outside. We would run. We would play fetch with her favorite pink ball. She would even play soccer with us. My friends were amazed that Charlie actually kicked the ball when she ran. She was even lucky enough to score a goal every once in awhile.
When it was time for me to go to school, Charlie would walk me to the bus stop. She would sit until I got on the bus. Then she would walk back home with Mom. Mom said the first few days she sat by the window all day. She was waiting for me to come home. When I did come home, she would meet me at the bus with her dog smile. She would jump up and spin around. She did that whenever we came home from being gone. I knew she was just as excited to see me as I was to see her. Charlie was my best friend.
Then the worst day of my life happened. Charlie was outside with Dad. He was doing yard work and always let Charlie follow him around. Usually, she stretched out under the big shade tree and slept. That day was different. Charlie saw a rabbit across the street. She loved animals as much as she loved people. I think she thought that all animals wanted to play with her. Charlie stood from her napping spot. Dad saw her out of the corner of his eye. Before he could say, "Charlie, no," she was off. Across the street she went. What she did not see was the car. The driver did not see her either.
As my brother and I ran from behind the house, I saw Charlie lying on the ground. She was not moving except for her sad eyes that looked more sad than usual. I ran over to her with tears in my eyes. My best friend was hurt!Paragraphs 10 to 16:
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