Duke was a good dog. He had little brown puppy eyes, light brown and black hair (a German Shepard of course,) and a pointy little snout. One day in Van Horn, Texas, Adam and I were playing outside with his dog Duke. “Fetch!” Adam commanded. The stick was in the air going as fast as lightning! Next thing you see a big mouth come up, bring it down, and… starts playing with it? ” Duke!” we both said, “you dumb dog, your supposed to bring it back not try to eat it!” Then he looked at us as if trying to say, ” Please! Please! Please! Can I play with it?!” ” Fine, you can play with it while Adam and I go get a snack,” I exclaimed. “Yay!” he said with his little one foot jump. When we came back outside nothing was there. We went to go tell our parents, get fliers, and put them up all over the city. That week was so gloomy. It tuned out that nobody had found him, but if somebody did I know he’s in good hands.