One trait I have in my genes is the love for animals. I often wonder how I became to be such a caring person to these furry critters since they can’t talk or get to know us as a human can. It started centuries ago on my father’s side of the family. My grandmother who was born in 1896, grew up in Canton, Illinois. The family had farm animals and she often rode a horse to the schoolhouse, letting him graze in the field as she studied. After school was out, she rode him home. There was no television or radio. They didn’t have much to do besides the usual chores around the home, so animals kept them occupied and brought joy to the family.
My dad who was born in 1938, grew up with many brothers and sisters. My grandfather walked four miles to work in a coal mine and brought home fifty cents a day. It’s reported that my grandmother had 18 kids total, including many twins and triplets with some dying at birth. My father grew up with a fox terrier named Bingo. He was really young when they got him. After the dog passed away, my father bought a bicycle for nine dollars. It was an older bike with a metal basket attached at the handlebars. He rode it everyday, trying to find odd jobs around Peoria Illinois. He would ride for ten miles sometimes and once he found a black lab puppy in the parking lot of a restaurant.
“He’s wanting scraps,” some guy called from his car where a tray of food was leveled onto his window. “He hangs around here a lot.”
Dad being the animal lover he is, picked up the dog and put him in his basket. He rode the bike home which was about six miles up Farmington Road ,the road that led home to Norwood Park. He held the puppy in the basket as he walked the bicycle up one gigantic steep hill with woods on each side. Back then, cars didn’t go as fast but nowadays I cannot imagine walking up that hill without getting hit. He took the dog home and named him Teddy. Teddy remained with the family of many kids until he died years later.
When I was growing up, Dad always brought home either stray pets or ones that someone was trying to get rid of. My mother would often object, but Dad’s love for animals prevailed.
He brought home our family basset hound in the 1976 and my brother named him Bosley, after an actor on the show Happy Days. Bosley was the most popular dog in Norwood Park. He roamed the neighborhood and would often walk up to the baseball diamond and lounge in the grass when a game was being played.
“Time out!” The umpire yelled. “Get that dog off the field!”
“Bosley, go on home!” a player would yell.
Bosley hardly came home. Instead, he would go visit the people in the bleachers hoping for a drop of a hot dog or some popcorn. By then, many people knew his name, but didn’t know our family or even where we lived. He loved the neighborhood so much that after we moved in the early 1980’s, he wandered off many times on his quest to go home to Norwood. He finally adjusted to the country life we had with no neighbors and lived a lot longer than most basset hounds, ending his life after I graduated high school in 1988.
I grew up with Bosley through grade school and adolescence. When I talk to my old friends from Norwood, we recount stories about him. He was a big part of our family and remain in many peoples’ memories.
I had my first dog as an adult when I owned my own home at twenty-seven years of age. Her name was Bailey, already named by the people who had her first. She was my baby and I treated her like a kid. Since I didn’t have kids, she was the one I loved the most. I have always cared more for animals than people, even when it comes down to charities. I feel that animals don’t make us feel bad for something we did. They don’t care what we look like on our bad days or how upset we get. They still love us unconditionally. Some people think my view on this is strange, but I have always held a special place for animals in my heart and always will.
Comments:
Instructor Wells: Hello Kelli. You’ve written a great essay about your life, or story, or anecdote, whatever you call it. I love the way you set up the beginning sentence and then carry it throughout the entire story, each time showing us another side of that opening statement. You start with farm animals, and I believe you are correct that they filled a need for affection and companionship that we don’t seem to need today with TV and computers, or that dogs and cats fill for us today.
And I liked that you went back to your dad and his family for your love of animals. Your father seems very nice and kindhearted, and a hard worker. Can you imagine your grandmother having eighteen kids and losing many of them at birth. What a hard life she must have had. Your father’s love for animals must have offset your mother’s objection. Glad he prevailed. And the anecdote about Bosley is priceless. How great that a dog could become the neighborhood dog everyone loved. It sounds like Bosley had a great life. You are so right about animals loving us unconditionally. As long as we are halfway kind to them, they are loyal friends. Maybe we don’t value them enough.
Editing: I was fascinated by your story and didn’t see many places for editing. I’ll read it again, just to be certain. I only found a few. 18 (for kids) should probably be spelled out. Eighteen kids, etc. And I see places for a few commas, but commas are not hard and fast rules. If you have two complete sentences that could stand alone and you join them with a conjunction such as “and” then you probably could use a comma: The family had farm animals, and she often rode a horse, etc. And you need a comma after Peoria. Otherwise, it reads well. Your work is very conversational, and the reader feels as if they’re in a room with you enjoying your company and the stories you tell. You have a talent for this kind of writing. And you have a lot of stories to tell, I’m certain. If your dad is still alive, try and interview him for some more details about his early life. If not, then ask your siblings for memories to see if they match yours.
Excellent work. I’m very happy with the way you are progressing in the class. Do you want any other feedback. Anything you had doubts about that you’d like to discuss? Let me know here. Regards, Joyce
My dad who was born in 1938, grew up with many brothers and sisters. My grandfather walked four miles to work in a coal mine and brought home fifty cents a day. It’s reported that my grandmother had 18 kids total, including many twins and triplets with some dying at birth. My father grew up with a fox terrier named Bingo. He was really young when they got him. After the dog passed away, my father bought a bicycle for nine dollars. It was an older bike with a metal basket attached at the handlebars. He rode it everyday, trying to find odd jobs around Peoria Illinois. He would ride for ten miles sometimes and once he found a black lab puppy in the parking lot of a restaurant.
“He’s wanting scraps,” some guy called from his car where a tray of food was leveled onto his window. “He hangs around here a lot.”
Dad being the animal lover he is, picked up the dog and put him in his basket. He rode the bike home which was about six miles up Farmington Road ,the road that led home to Norwood Park. He held the puppy in the basket as he walked the bicycle up one gigantic steep hill with woods on each side. Back then, cars didn’t go as fast but nowadays I cannot imagine walking up that hill without getting hit. He took the dog home and named him Teddy. Teddy remained with the family of many kids until he died years later.
When I was growing up, Dad always brought home either stray pets or ones that someone was trying to get rid of. My mother would often object, but Dad’s love for animals prevailed.
He brought home our family basset hound in the 1976 and my brother named him Bosley, after an actor on the show Happy Days. Bosley was the most popular dog in Norwood Park. He roamed the neighborhood and would often walk up to the baseball diamond and lounge in the grass when a game was being played.
“Time out!” The umpire yelled. “Get that dog off the field!”
“Bosley, go on home!” a player would yell.
Bosley hardly came home. Instead, he would go visit the people in the bleachers hoping for a drop of a hot dog or some popcorn. By then, many people knew his name, but didn’t know our family or even where we lived. He loved the neighborhood so much that after we moved in the early 1980’s, he wandered off many times on his quest to go home to Norwood. He finally adjusted to the country life we had with no neighbors and lived a lot longer than most basset hounds, ending his life after I graduated high school in 1988.
I grew up with Bosley through grade school and adolescence. When I talk to my old friends from Norwood, we recount stories about him. He was a big part of our family and remain in many peoples’ memories.
I had my first dog as an adult when I owned my own home at twenty-seven years of age. Her name was Bailey, already named by the people who had her first. She was my baby and I treated her like a kid. Since I didn’t have kids, she was the one I loved the most. I have always cared more for animals than people, even when it comes down to charities. I feel that animals don’t make us feel bad for something we did. They don’t care what we look like on our bad days or how upset we get. They still love us unconditionally. Some people think my view on this is strange, but I have always held a special place for animals in my heart and always will.
Comments:
Instructor Wells: Hello Kelli. You’ve written a great essay about your life, or story, or anecdote, whatever you call it. I love the way you set up the beginning sentence and then carry it throughout the entire story, each time showing us another side of that opening statement. You start with farm animals, and I believe you are correct that they filled a need for affection and companionship that we don’t seem to need today with TV and computers, or that dogs and cats fill for us today.
And I liked that you went back to your dad and his family for your love of animals. Your father seems very nice and kindhearted, and a hard worker. Can you imagine your grandmother having eighteen kids and losing many of them at birth. What a hard life she must have had. Your father’s love for animals must have offset your mother’s objection. Glad he prevailed. And the anecdote about Bosley is priceless. How great that a dog could become the neighborhood dog everyone loved. It sounds like Bosley had a great life. You are so right about animals loving us unconditionally. As long as we are halfway kind to them, they are loyal friends. Maybe we don’t value them enough.
Editing: I was fascinated by your story and didn’t see many places for editing. I’ll read it again, just to be certain. I only found a few. 18 (for kids) should probably be spelled out. Eighteen kids, etc. And I see places for a few commas, but commas are not hard and fast rules. If you have two complete sentences that could stand alone and you join them with a conjunction such as “and” then you probably could use a comma: The family had farm animals, and she often rode a horse, etc. And you need a comma after Peoria. Otherwise, it reads well. Your work is very conversational, and the reader feels as if they’re in a room with you enjoying your company and the stories you tell. You have a talent for this kind of writing. And you have a lot of stories to tell, I’m certain. If your dad is still alive, try and interview him for some more details about his early life. If not, then ask your siblings for memories to see if they match yours.
Excellent work. I’m very happy with the way you are progressing in the class. Do you want any other feedback. Anything you had doubts about that you’d like to discuss? Let me know here. Regards, Joyce