About 12 years ago when I still lived in Arizona, my parents decided that our family was ready for a dog. We went to the pet store a few times to find potential dogs and eventually we found the dog for us. He was less than a year old, had white fur, and was very small. I was six years old, white, and skinny. On the way back from the store, my older brother and I were tasked with naming the little pup. Back then, Jacob and I frequently watched the cartoon Arthur. The main character, Arthur, had a dog named Pal so we decided to name our dog Buddy.

Two years later, my family moved to Georgia with Buddy. I loved our new back yard and so did our dog Buddy. Our back yard was a few acers of woods with a trail that would lead to our neighbor’s house. Our neighbors had two boys nearly the same age as my brother and I. The four of us became best friends and would always go up and down the trail to each other’s house. Their family also had a little white dog named Rizzo. Rizzo and Buddy became great friends and sometimes Buddy would walk alone through the trail just to see Rizzo.

Buddy has been a big part of my life and still is when I come home from school. He is a great dog and I could not have asked for a better one. He is more than just a buddy to me.