Mighty.

When I was little, I didn't enjoy playing with the other kids because they were all so much taller than me. Or maybe it was the fact that every single family that lived in my neighborhood planned to have a baby around the same time and my mother didn't get the memo so I wasn't as grown up as the other children.

So we had a dog- well, several dogs. From what I remember, when you get pets you just get them; there is no serious 'paper work' to be done as a transitional method, you just look into a bucket and see a puppy. The hardest part was just naming it. My mom and brother settled for 'Mighty'. What a cheesy name. It made him sound like some weird Moses of the animal world. Although, I guess they named him that because of his puffy fur that sort of made him look like a lion.

'Mighty' was a much better playmate than the neighborhood kids, because even though he was older than me (dog years-wise), we were still around the same height. I'll lead him down to the shallow river behind the house and we will play pirates. He was always the vicious and merciless pirate, chasing frogs and ducks that would wander around and I was just there to stop him from eating the ducks.

The end.