On my sixth birthday, my father bought me a dog named Brownie as a birthday present. My brother and I like her very much. We often play with her when we are free. One takes her for a walk, one feeds her, and others like taking a bath and playing games. Brownie likes them very much. We will be happy when he is around us.

One day, when I fed him, he was biting his father's shoes. I know my father will be angry when he sees it. I have to let him know that he is wrong. I said "bad girl" to him, and she bowed her head to show her knowledge.

Browine is more than just a pet. He followed us everywhere. People will stop and ask if they can touch her. Of course, he let anyone touch her. The child can put his hand on her head when walking. In fact, he loves everyone.

Many years have passed, and Blouin died of old age. I often miss him.