My Escapade with Daisy Essay Example

a hundred weight of deceased animal. I sighed and informed a tearful and sniffling Joe that we would need to bury the sheep. Together, while Joe was bumbling and shedding tears, we dug a grave in the north field.

After burying Daisy and hearing Joe say, "I love you Daisy," I comforted him by telling him that Daisy was in heaven and offering a prayer. This appeased him and allowed us to continue with our tasks. However, the following day at work, my troubles multiplied. As I arrived at the gate, I was greeted by a wheezing, ruddy-faced man who appeared to be out of breath and suffering from asthma.

A man introduced himself as from health and safety and expressed concern that burying a sheep posed a health hazard. His multiple chins jiggled in agreement. Another man, tall and skinny with a large nose, approached and demanded that I unearth the sheep.

The man pointed out that the land we were on belonged to the National Trust and proudly declared himself to be the area officer. He had a birdlike gaze and gestured with a claw-like hand. Together with my companion Joe, who was still making noises and sniffling, we proceeded to unearth a deceased daisy. However, I was then left with the predicament of what to do with a half-decomposed, thoroughly soaked, and extremely tainted sheep carcass. As I pondered my quandary, inspiration struck like a light bulb above my head.

Ping! The light bulb sparked with an idea - to burn her in the furnace. So, with snotty Joe's assistance, we loaded the furnace with discarded tractor tyres and a bit of kerosene for added

measure.

Once we set a powerful flame, we placed Daisy on her remarkable funeral pyre in a rough manner. While admiring our extraordinary feat, Joe kept crying and drooling without any restraint. We expected this to be the ultimate solution to the Daisy issue, but my spirits plummeted as soon as I heard the distant sirens wailing.

As I looked down the lane, I saw the entire British fire brigade running towards us at incredible speed. They suddenly stopped and, without giving me a chance to explain, began shouting orders and rushing in different directions. The yard was filled with numerous firehoses that resembled snakes of fire, causing chaos and leaving me feeling confused, dizzy, and sick.

Attempting to remain composed, I approached a seemingly important individual who was shouting commands amidst the blaring of sirens. I stood tall and attempted to communicate through exaggerated arm movements, head shaking, and grotesque facial expressions. Despite my frantic pleas of "Stop Stop!", my efforts were in vain and the man regarded me with the same deranged expression as Joe. I worried that I may have appeared insane and hoped that I wasn't drooling.

While attempting to explain the situation, I witnessed the firemen simultaneously aim their hoses at the 19th century farmhouse. The home was complete with its original fixtures and fittings, and it was soaked with water. This sight caused me to weep, beg for mercy, and ultimately collapse in despair. Despite this, I gathered enough strength to inform the Chief Fire Officer about Daisy's predicament. The onlookers among the firemen found amusement in his regretful admission that neighbors had alerted them of billowing black smoke.

After witnessing the black,

muddy water in the yard, they concluded that the farm was ablaze. Their departure was accompanied by snickers and giggles. Tragically, the nineteenth century farmhouse and its priceless fixtures were destroyed, as well as their beloved pet sheep who perished and is now being mourned over a damp funeral pyre. Adding to this disastrous situation, Joe has experienced a nervous breakdown and is currently responding aggressively towards his psychiatrist. The daunting task of informing the Goldwells while securing my job looms ahead.