She was the dog my mother picked out. The dog my mother named “Princess.”
My tom-boy self was not impressed with a bow-wearing painted toenail creature.
Perhaps my tom-boy self is the reason my mother wanted a dog that would accept painted toenails and being prettied-up with bows.
To be fair the dog didn’t get a choice. And she was a dog so we got along anyway.
And when she was the topic of my first published work, I guess we bonded.
The annual school newsletter published work from each of the eight grades in our school. Not everyone’s work was accepted. My competitive little fourth-grade self was intrigued. If there was one thing I could do, it was tell a story. Sometimes even true ones.
Imagine my delight when my masterpiece - a work of poetry - was accepted for publication.
My author career was off and running!
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My Dog By Sue Ebbs Grade 4 I have a French
Poodle who likes egg noodles. She isn’t your average dog. She sleeps all day like a log.
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Like any creator with a successful first offering, I tried to replicate my success. With a sequel.
Like most sequels, mine fell short of expectations. It netted me a passing grade: one of those at-least-she-completed-the-assignment checkmarks. But even I knew it was short of my previous work. I am certain of this because I can recite the first one quite easily despite the intervening years. But the sequel. Not so much. Not a single line. Not one poetic phrase. I have entirely repressed the memory of that piece of creative work. (Don’t knock it – repression can be a beautiful thing.)
The dog’s fall from stardom began to wear on her too and she let her appearance go. She took to drink. Okay perhaps she was always a mooch. But I’m the one telling this story.
Lesson 1:
Do not judge people from their outward appearance. Yeah, yeah the adults in my life probably mentioned that a few hundred times, but it meant more coming from a dog. Princess was pretty and I didn’t hate her for it.
Lesson 2:
Just because you didn’t choose a situation is no excuse for not seizing the opportunities that situation presents. After all, where would my writing career be if it hadn’t been given such an auspicious start?
Lesson 3:
You don’t have to choose something (or someone) to love it (or them.)
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