When I was around two years old I received my first pet, it was a dog. I named him Bingo and I’m guessing to this day why I named him Bingo was because the song old McDonalds had a farm which was one of my favorite nursery rhymes when I was about two. He was a mixed dog with the breed of a black lab and a Shar-Pei, but he mainly looked like a black lab, tall, with ears that overlapped.
He was the nicest loving dog, very playful, energetic and loved to run. I remember when I was a little girl I would go to my grandparent’s farm and get on my toy tractor and ride it while Bingo would run along beside me. He would keep running until I was done. He’d never give up. Although he was a really friendly dog, he also was very protective. When someone he didn’t know that would go up to him he’d get a little defensive.
When I was around 4 years old, he got loose off his leash and ran out in the road and got hit by a car. I was so devastated hoping he’d be okay and stay alive. My parents, grandparents, and I rushed Bingo to the vet. As I waited nervously for the doctor’s results, the doctor finally walked out the door with the results that he made it and was still alive. I jumped up with joy and excitement, but there was a condition he had to wear a white cone around his neck for a couple months until he got better, but that didn’t faze me as long as he was alive.
After Bingo got older, and I of course got older, I taught him some tricks, for instance how to sit, lay down, fetch and roll over. Although he was just a dog he was the best pet in the world to me. This past summer in 2011 he passed away due to old age and overheating from the sun. He was about 15 years old and I was 17 when he died.