Narrative Parragraph

A sunny Saturday afternoon is not the sort of time you would expect to g
et the fright of your life. I was dawdling about in the driveway, trying to chan
ge a flat tyre on my grandmother's car with an old lug wrench when I heard a blo
od-curdling yelp. I guessed it came from my grandmother's irking parrot, who nev
er stopped sqawking back then, so I went on tightening the last nuts of the rear
wheel. Seconds later, I was struck by the sight of my grandmother's dog hobblin
g through the open front door and staggering awkwardly across the porch, the hai
r on the back of his neck dishevelled and glistening with drool. The dog looked
back at me with despair and bolted down the street as if going to fetch help. Wi
thout wasting any more time, I stood up and darted into the house. I shot a quic
k glance around the living room but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. I though
t I heard a growl upstairs but I was not sure, maybe it was just my heartbeat re
verberating in my head. With the lug wrench still in my hand I headed upstairs,
creeping up the creaking steps. Halfway there my suspicions were confirmed. Gree
n and yellow feathers were swirling down the stairs.
Before I could panic I was knock down by a hairy beast, my head hit the floor wi
th a resounding thud. When I came to I could sense its hot breath on my neck. Wi
th my eyes still closed, I strech out my hand and grabbed the lug wrench. I was
just about to strike down the beast when I felt the wolf's full weight come tumb
ling down upon me. Finally when i open my eyes my neighbor was standing by side
with a tranquilizer gun along with my grandmother Tacita's dog. On that sunny S
aturday afternoon I realized the importance of having good neighbours, but, even
more so, the importance of having an even better dog.