May 18, 2013


Day 18: Tell a story from your childhood. Dig deep and try to be descriptive about what you remember and how you felt.

Most of you probably know I stink at remembering things. But there are certain memories from my childhood that are so vivid I feel like I'm reliving them if I close my eyes long enough.

So here goes nothing, a story from my childhood--ten years old to be exact. Please bear with my fragmented sentences. It's a common thing on my blog, but I apologize ahead of time if you're a grammar/writing freak. I am one too sometimes.

I think I woke up at 3:30 am, or so my scrapbook says. I heard my dad open my parent's bedroom door, turn on the hall light, walk downstairs--his hands sliding down the railing as he did--and turn on more lights. The home that was once dark and silent (except for the sound of some infrequent but audible snores), was now brightly lit. The security alarm was shut off and I heard him open the door. 

At the time, I was half awake, only hearing the whispers of my dad talking to my mom, who was now also awake and downstairs with him. The two were mumbling and the only thoughts going through my mind were, "Who's there?"  "Who's at the door?" "Is the police here? Is there a stranger here? What happened? Is someone in trouble?" These are all reasonable things for a ten year old to think, right? I guess that just shows how I was made for watching crime shows. 

Anyway, I must have dozed back to sleep because I don't remember much happening until three or four hours later. The normal school day buzz was going, the morning coffee, the lunch making, and the microwave and toaster were up and running as well. I'm sure my mom woke me up as usual, but this time she said something a little different than her normal "Good morning!" routine. 

"There's a dog downstairs, in the garage. Dad heard her barking at the doorstep last night." If only my mom said that every morning because my sisters and I literally pushed our way to the garage. As the door creaked open, we looked over to my dad's tool area and say a little dog, sitting on some old towels. She sat with her ears perked and her dark brown eyes fixed on us. We fixed our eyes on her, too and I'm sure the oohs and aahs quickly followed. She was a blond dog, resembling a Chihuahua with a little Pomeranian mixed in, too. She was adorable and we were in love with her long hair and adorable dark brown eyes.

I don't remember much of that school day, but how could I? There was a puppy (more like a senior citizen, according to the animal shelter) waiting at home for me. But once school was over, our family walked her around the neighborhood, using a thin piece of rope as a leash, hoping to find her owners. We posted signs, talked to neighbors, and my parents called the animal shelter. 

Lucky for us, they recommended that we keep her for a few days just in case her owners lived nearby. Secretly, I think they were hoping we would become her new owners, but they would never say something like that, would they? Those next few days were filled with lots of love for that little dog, who surprisingly fit in and tolerated our love for her. I remember sitting on the front lawn, my sisters and I surrounding her, thinking of possible names for our potential first pet.

Fluffy was out of the picture and so was Princess. There was no way my dad was going to walk around calling for a puppy with a name like that. We went through a list of names, being the little dreamer girls we were and I somehow came up with Daisy. 

And it stuck. And she stuck with us, too. No one really knows where she came from, if someone intentionally dropped her off on our doorstep, or if she found us. Either way, she was a literal answer to prayer because only a few weeks beforehand, my little sister (only four or so at the time) had been praying for a puppy. 

And sure enough, God placed one on our doorstep. 


  1. Replies
    1. She was definitely a sweet dog and she has an incredible and sometimes unbelievable story, too. :) Thanks for stopping by!

  2. Aw...what an unbelievable story! And I love that cute!!!

    1. It definitely is an unbelievable story--I still have a hard time believing it really happened. :)

  3. Cute story. Well that pup certainly lucked out finding your family.

    1. Thanks! And I think we totally lucked out having her show up on our doorstep! :)

  4. Fragmented sentences, what? Girl, this story is SO well written, have I told you lately how much your writing style and humor just makes me laugh??

    Sigh...I wish that someone would drop off a kitten on my front doorstep and that somehow my "landylady/roommate/bestish friend" would let me keep it...

    1. Um, SWEETEST compliment ever, perhaps? You, my friend, are so sweet and thank you! This blog challenge has been pushing me to write more and to publish some posts that are more my essay-style, so it's so nice of you to say that about my writing! And my humor? First of all, I don't really think that I have a sense of humor. Just a love of laughter and seeing other people laugh. :)

      And I would totally bring a kitten to your doorstep. Kittens are adorable and I'm sure a little kitten could possible win over the heart of your roomie!


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