I still remember as if it were yesterday. I had just moved to a new house in Chattanooga, Tennessee. I was no longer living on a dirt road, but rather a paved one. Fenced-in homes, tall oak trees, and dozens of little children made up a neighborhood anyone would be proud to live in. Previous isolation, which led to shyness, prevented me from making any new friends. As a remedy for this loneliness, my parents bought me a puppy. His name was Intrepid. I was happy. Finally I had a friend and a companion. I had feelings of love towards my dog, but didn't realize how loyal he would eventually become.
No longer a small fragile puppy, this two- year old Great Dane stood almost three feet tall. His muscles reminded me of a sculpture etched out of stone. There was never a time during those years when Intrepid would leave my side.
He would walk with me to the bus stop every morning, and watch me go to school. Although he had grown into a rather big dog, he would still sleep by my side. We were inseparable.
One day I noticed that someone had moved into the old Loomis' house. Right away I noticed the police car. "A cop living in the neighborhood is otherwise a good thing", I thought to myself, but that wasn't my concern. The canine emblem on the car stood out like lights on a marquee. Beads of sweat rose upon my forehead. I had overheard stories
of police dogs one night while playing in my room. I opened the window allowing me to hear the other kids in the neighborhood. Talk of German Shepherds mutilating criminals, turning on their masters, and even tales of missing children sent chills down my spine.