Family Dog Our Family Member, Wolfie Our

Family Dog

Our Family Member, Wolfie

Our German Shepherd Wolfie has always been the most popular member of our family. Even though there were four of us, including Mom, Pop, and my little sister, it was Wolfie that everyone on the street knew best. Even the neighborhood kids loved her and would come over just to play with her. My sister and I did not even have to be home (and if we were that did not necessarily mean we would be asked to come out and play). No, the dog was everyone's favorite. Yet, for some reason, none of us were ever jealous of Wolfie. She deserved her popularity, after all. This paper will show why our family will always be remembered -- not for what we ourselves did -- but for what our dog did!

From the time Wolfie was born, she was the most welcome dog to have ever lived -- so I am told anyway. My parents refused to put her on a leash: they did not want to keep Wolfie's friendliness all locked up. Fortunately, everyone in our neighborhood turned out to be just as fond of Wolfie as we were: she would turn up for meals at dinner time and beg a few scraps, often making the rounds to several different houses before finally coming home to ours, pleasantly stuffed. We would scold Wolfie, "Bad dog!" But it was impossible not to love her.

She would walk with us to school in the morning and wait for us to get out. During recess she would come and play with us on the schoolyard field. She was always everyone's favorite part of recess. It was Wolfie who helped my sister and me make a lot of friends. But it was always my sister and I who got to walk home with Wolfie at the end of the day -- and nobody else! All the kids who walked partway with us would cry, "Bye, Wolfie!" when they turned toward their own homes. But Wolfie paid them no mind: we were hers, and she was ours -- and she would lead the way.

After school, however, Wolfie was off duty. She would scour the neighborhood looking for whatever seemed adventurous to her. Sometimes, while running errands with Mom, we would run into Wolfie out and about herself. Once she saw us, of course, she would drop whatever she was doing and accompany us. If we were entering the grocery store, she would wait outside, greeting all the customers who went in and came out. And then she would hitch a ride back home with us.

Then again, sometimes she would not venture out at all and instead would let life come to her. In this way, the neighborhood kids would all come to see Wolfie. They would bring her treats, toys, something new to chew on or to chase after. They would romp in the yard. I myself cannot recall a single childhood memory of which Wolfie is not a part -- and I bet for the neighborhood kids it is very nearly the same!