My Dogs
Dillon, Age 14, Ashburn, VA
My dogs are named Daisy and Bailey. Every time I see them, I smile.

We got Daisy when I was only three years old. I hardly remember it, but my mom says I was the only one who would go up to her. Apparently, Daisy used to bite everyone who tried to pet her. My brother and sister were too afraid, but not me, I couldn’t have cared less if she bit me or licked me. I was five when we got Bailey, so I have more vivid memories. I remember we narrowed it down to two dogs: Bailey, who is a black and white male, and a small white male. We took the puppies outside to play. Bailey was zooming all over the place and would not hold still. The white one, though, just lay there while Bailey circled him about a thousand times. The choice was obvious. Bailey was coming home with us.
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In the car on the way home, Daisy’s new brother was in his crate, and we were all pondering what to call him. We all suggested a few names, but none of them sounded right. After a couple of minutes of silence, we were all stumped. “DAVID!!!!!” my brother suddenly yelled. “NOOO!!!!!” my sister and I replied. My brother, always stubborn, kept trying to build a case for the name David, when my mom spoke for the first time since we got in the car. “How about the name Bailey?” It was decided: Bailey David.
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