Ciarán W13


My name is John. This is a story about when I was nine. So this is in the late 1950’s where people treated DOGS better than kids! I wanted a horse, fine call me a sissy now get all your laughs out so I can continue with my story … thank you. I didn’t realise that they could fly, but I kept on saving determined to get one. After months of cleaning farmers muddy and poopy boots I finally had enough money to buy a horse. The first time I sat on the horse it immediately flew up in the sky and I fell off the horse and that’s how I got paralysed.


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