A Hot Dog Cravin’
“Morgan, honey, it’s time to wake up. If you don’t get up soon you’re going to be late for school.” Six-thirty always came too soon. As I climbed out of bed, it was clear to see that it had started out as any other day in the Athey household. My parents had gotten up at a quarter after six as usual, just in time to get ready for the day and grab a cup of coffee and a bagel. My brother, Dirk, and I were both getting ready for another day at Johnson Elementary School. He was in the fourth grade with Mrs. Ash; whereas I was in Mrs. Belcastro’s first grade class. We were both ready to go with our matching Jansport backpack’s on and our packed lunches in hand. We hopped into the jeep, and we were on our way to school.
I remember that day at school like it was just yesterday. I was wearing my favorite Winnie the Pooh denim shorts and matching tee shirt, and my hair was held back, of course, by an oversized hair bow. Being a beautician’s daughter, my hair was constantly filled with tons of curls, tons of large bows, and tons of hairspray. That was the day we presented our favorite journal entry from the previous week. When it was my turn to present, I talked not a minute under fifteen minutes about taking my puppy, Shaz-be, on a walk up and down my street. I talked about how well behaved he was and how much I loved my puppy. Shaz-be never barked, never tried to run off while I was walking him, and never scratched or bit.
Shaz-be was perfect.
I was out on the playground during recess playing on the monkey bars with my friends when I see my dad running over to me. The first thing that crossed my mind was that Shaz-be got run over, or maybe stolen. As a six year old, I had the mindset that everyone wanted to steal Shaz-be, since he was the perfect pet. I crossed my fingers behind my back and squeezed them together until they went numb. “I went home to let Shaz-be out to use the bathroom, and he ran away. I’m going to take the rest of the day off and...