The German Shepard dog was sat at the gate waiting, his heartbeat accelerating in anticipation of Clara coming home from school.
Elsa buries her face in the fur of the German Shepard dog, to her he is a living teddy-bear.
She was an Alsatian, yet her fur more in hues of cream than most; each brown was a perfect marriage to the whitest of fur.
There is something of the wise wolf in the eyes of the German Shepard dog, a gentleness that speaks of his noble heart.
The German Shepard dog walks over a red carpet of autumnal leaves. She has a steady gait and her fur colour is softened by the golden light. With eyes so intelligent she could be from magical Narnia, and I have expect her to speak as we pass.
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