Finally, I was going to be graduating from high school. All I needed to do was turn in my final term paper on Monday. After a long weekend of reaserching and writing, I put it in my completed project in a folder on my desk. I fell asleep dreaming of the life I had ahead of me after high school. I was awaken by a loud snarling sound in my room. I turned on the light, and to my horror, my dog Fido, had torn apart and eaten my homework assignment. Wait a second am I dreaming? No, it can't be! My sweet little Wolfie isn't eating my homework my final term paper has come alive and is now eating sweet little Wolfie. What do I do? My paper is actually coming alive. What was I thinking writing about the cannibals of the South Pacific. Panic has over taken me and mass confusion is swarming my brain like a blender scrambling eggs. My brain is spinning around like a top as try to think of what I can do to save poor Wolfie. Then suddenly, it comes to me. I can write a different subject and maybe save Wolfie. I think about earlier documents I had saved to my computer's desktop and frantically searched. I found my biography research paper on Stephen King, but thought that was a bit too odd. I located a nonfiction review on Caesar Ramano's "The Dog Whisperer" and new that I was there. (I suddently thought to myself? "When did my dog's name change from Fido to Wolfie?)