When
I was eight years old, I had a little dog.
His name was Zarrco. One day my
mom told me to get some water. I went to
the river in front of my house, and I carried Zarrco. A big dog came toward me and looked at my
dog. I ran and ran and ran as fast as I
could. But that big dog wanted my tiny
dog. The big dog finally bit my
hand. I went back home. My parents said that dog was sick. I had to go to the doctor and get a vaccine.
Maria
Coco Garcia
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