Memoir never posted it

The smell of cigarettes just put out intoxicated my nose. The toxic fumes were making dizzy. I was in a cab in Manhattan. Today was the day. The day I finally had a responsibility. I was headed to get my puppy. I had probably pestered my family about it for quite some time, but the day had finally arrived. As I stepped out of the cab I rushed in the door. The smell of dog treats and rubber were in the air circling around me. I felt the joy of the dogs when they saw a new person. As if they knew that today might be their lucky day to leave and become apart of a family. I ran to see that dogs that where in the playpen.  Was amazed to see a vast array of different breeds of dogs.  All the dogs were running up and down as if they were in a sugar rush. My dad picked a dog and it was okay. But then I saw her. She had white fur as white and fluffy as clouds. She was jumping on top of other dogs, doing tricks and running like a maniac. She ran to me and tackled me. Her fur was a soft as a pillow and smooth as can be. Once I had her I know that she would be my responsibility. I knew she would be my dog and that I would take care of her. I looked into her big brown eyes and I saw innocence. I said to my dad, dad this is the one we are taking home. We did. We took it home and she was mine. The day we got home and we had to go to sleep, I stayed up with her until she fell asleep. But I took responsibility for her. At this time all of this made me feel grown up. I wasn’t a child anymore in my eyes. I had grown up. I didn’t need anyone’s assistance. This moment made me feel incredibly mature. While I know that probably everyone else in the family felt annoyed and bothered by the fact that I kept on saying that I was a “big boy”. But that dog, named Frida was the key to me becoming mature.