Can you show me a picture of your pet?

I want to share my friend, a little dog named White bean. But I don’t have a picture of him, because he passed away 7 years ago. To be honest, I still don’t know how he died. He is the only pet in our family for more than 20 years and I have no more pets in my family after he died. . .

White bean is a little white dog, without a round head, but looks pretty cool. He has a small body and very flexible. My little brother and I adopted him as soon as he was born. Because he is white and small like a bean, my brother and I named him White bean.

When I was a child, my parents often went out at night, and White bean was like my superhero. Every time there was a slight movement outside, he would yell and scare others away. White bean was not polite when he faced strangers, but he was very spiritual because he would remember everyone who came to my house so that when others came back for the second time, he would not scare them by shouting. Our neighbors all know him, since living in the countryside, there will be 7or 8 households in one street, and White bean will guard three streets. I don’t know how he has so much energy to patrol every day.

The days have passed by and the following are some of the things that impressed me the most. When I was young, my teacher often asked students to write essays about pets, and I was no exception. At that time, I was writing White bean, and the teacher praised my article and invited me to read it for everyone. But I couldn’t read my composition because I cried when I read it. I don’t know the reason. It’s just like writing a family member. Many times you can’t control your emotions. Later, it was my deskmate who finished reading that article.

White bean grew up day by day. When he was 9 years old, I went home from school and found that he was lying motionless. I walked over and found him was drooling all the time. I asked my mom what was going on. She said that White bean had oral ulcers and had just returned from the hospital with an injection. I was distressed at the time because he couldn’t eat, and kept drooling. I looked at his eyes and suddenly thought that he was so old, and the hair on his body had begun to appear pale yellow. . . His oral ulcers have not healed, so my parents and I took him to the hospital for injections again, but he ran away on the way back. It was already dark at the time, and we didn’t know where he went. My parents and I kept looking for him for a long time. I thought he must hate us, hate us taking him for injections, hate taking medicine, hate us taking him so far away. . . He must be very uncomfortable and we still not found him that night. The next day, I went to my grandmother’s house (our two families are next to each other) and suddenly found that the White beans nest in her house. I was so happy that he was not injured, and he also found his way home. But in the next few days, White bean never returned to my house, staying at my grandma’s house, yes, he was still angry or afraid that my father would take him to the hospital again.Then I went back to school, but I didn’t expect that it was the last time I saw him.

I had something to ask my mom so I called my home, and then mother said that White bean was dead. I just paused and didn’t ask any more questions. I know she was also very sad. A few days later, I went home and my brother told me that White bean was dying of illness and mom sold him. I was shocked but still didn’t say much. In this way, White bean disappeared in my life. Many years later, when I see dogs and cats raised in other people’s homes, I will think of White bean. One day my mom and I were chatting with others. Mom mentioned White bean and said that he was very smart. She said that our family no longer raises other dogs after White bean and once she raises other pets she will feel sorry for him. I asked her how White bean died. She replied that White bean was poisoned to death by others, because there were always dog stealers in the countryside, and they would feed the dogs poisonous food. Mom said that she had no iead why White bean would suddenly eat what others threw and when she woke up the next day, he was dead, and then she buried it with my dad. . .

This is the story of White bean. He was the only pet in our family,but I did not take care of him.

Share this article

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *