Lately, I was deeply touched with two movies about faithful dogs：A Dog's Purpose and A Dog's Way Home. A dog's life cycled and cycled only to meet his first owner while the other covered 400 miles of toil and hunger all the way back to her home. I had a faithful dog too when I was a little girl, but it was a different story.
When my dad first took him home in a cardboard box, he was so quiet that I even doubted whether there was really a dog in it. When I peeped through two small holes on the side, I just saw a patch of grey fur. My dad assured me that it was just a small dog before I dared to open the box. There he was! What a lovely grey dog! He was slim and looked smart. I was on my knees as I cheerfully observed him. However, he tried to avoid eye contact with me, apparently a little scared with everything strange around. I wanted to pet his head but he only turned his head away.
When he became familiar with me, I called him Billy and he was really delighted, zagging his tail. Every time I left for school, he saw me off. When I came back, he ways waited on my way home and greeted me with his licks and brushed his head against legs. When Billy was in the kitchen with my father, lying on a small heap of firewood side the furnace （灶）,he could always know which piece of firewood my dad would pick and raised his paw in time. It always surprised me how intelligent and considerate Billy I imagined him turning into a small boy carrying my schoolbag for me and talking my dad. With Billy brightening every day of my childhood, I was more than happy.
Paragraph 1：But one day, Billy was seriously ill.
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A few years later, I went to a dog's shelter to try my luck.
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