rocky the dog story

Rocky the dog

Once there lived a adorable dog called Rocky. He lived in the wonderful frogs bottom field. The really hot  sun just went down to bed and they're all getting ready to go to their cozy  beds. one of the dogs were fluffing up their duck feather pillow he pulled it and punched it.Another dog was twirling around looking for a comfy place to sleep. A different dog was getting into his fluffy space pjames.

Everybody was asleep apart from the cute rocky. He Was trying to get to sleep so he tried different things like  ‘so maybe if it was dark I could get to sleep’ so he put his  yellow and black dotted pome pome with a orange background hat over his sparkling blue eyes but he was scared of the dark. ‘maybe i'm too hot’ he thought so he took off his soft  silky black and brown fur and then he mumbled away to himself  ‘i'm way too cold not hot’ so next he tried a pillow but it was a cute puppy so ‘maybe not’ after that he found a rusty blue car that was crammed by old disgusting dead bugs and moldy food and fat rats ‘yuck’ so he went into a hollow  tree but to many squirrels and spiders so he said maybe if i count something. He counted his strong feet ‘1 2 3 4’  not asleep  wide awake so he thought for awhile. ¨I know maybe I should count the bright glowing stars”  ¨1 2 3 4 5 6  7 8 9 10000000000000000 and 10 im still awake maybe 1 more time maybe i'll go to sleep“1 2 3 4  5 6 7 8 9 10000000000 and 10 not asleep im still wide awake  maybe if i count dogs “1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9” not asleep i nearly forgot the best dog  me 10 ”  (yawn) and that's rocky fast asleep zzzzzzzzzz. (Snower)  and then the sun awaked all the dogs woke and one. Was getting into its purple and pretty black clothes.another one was eating yummy dog bone crealy, a different one was making his cozy bed. They were all ready for their breezy day.

                               Apart from

                                Rocky.         

my colour

We have been learning to write poems in  literacy  with Mrs Mcguinniety first  Mrs Mcguinniety reed the story then we brain stored our ides next we rite our poems.