Proofreading Practice: Correcting Run-On Sentences and Comma Splices
< Continued from page 1
Here is the corrected version of the paragraph used in the exercise on page one: Proofreading Practice: Correcting Run-On Sentences and Comma Splices.
Why I Had to Get Rid of the Monster
Although I am a dog-lover by nature, I recently had to give away my three-month-old retriever, Plato. I had several good reasons for doing so. A few months ago I picked up the dog at the Humane Society as a Christmas gift for my girlfriend.
Alas, when she dumped me on Christmas Eve, I was left to console myself by caring for the dog. That's when my true misery began. For one thing, Plato was not housebroken. Throughout the apartment he left little mementos, staining rugs and furniture and fouling the air. He would burrow under any newspapers I laid down for him. To make matters worse, his untamed potty habits were supported by an insatiable appetite. Not content with a sack of Kibbles 'n Bits every day, he would also gnaw at the couch and shred clothes, sheets, and blankets. One night he chewed up a friend's new pair of clogs. Finally, Plato simply wasn't happy being cooped up by himself in a small apartment. Whenever I left, he would begin whimpering, and that soon turned into furious barking. As a result, my neighbors were threatening to murder both me and the "monster," as they took to calling him. So, after six weeks of life with Plato, I gave him away to my uncle in Baxley. Fortunately, Uncle Jerry is quite accustomed to animal feed, waste, noise, and destruction.
Here is the corrected version of the paragraph used in the exercise on page one: Proofreading Practice: Correcting Run-On Sentences and Comma Splices.
Why I Had to Get Rid of the Monster
Although I am a dog-lover by nature, I recently had to give away my three-month-old retriever, Plato. I had several good reasons for doing so. A few months ago I picked up the dog at the Humane Society as a Christmas gift for my girlfriend.
Alas, when she dumped me on Christmas Eve, I was left to console myself by caring for the dog. That's when my true misery began. For one thing, Plato was not housebroken. Throughout the apartment he left little mementos, staining rugs and furniture and fouling the air. He would burrow under any newspapers I laid down for him. To make matters worse, his untamed potty habits were supported by an insatiable appetite. Not content with a sack of Kibbles 'n Bits every day, he would also gnaw at the couch and shred clothes, sheets, and blankets. One night he chewed up a friend's new pair of clogs. Finally, Plato simply wasn't happy being cooped up by himself in a small apartment. Whenever I left, he would begin whimpering, and that soon turned into furious barking. As a result, my neighbors were threatening to murder both me and the "monster," as they took to calling him. So, after six weeks of life with Plato, I gave him away to my uncle in Baxley. Fortunately, Uncle Jerry is quite accustomed to animal feed, waste, noise, and destruction.
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