[Y]oung Writers Project, an independent nonprofit based in Burlington, engages young people to write and use digital media to express themselves with clarity and power, and to gain confidence and skills for school, the workplace and life.
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Each week, VTDigger features a writing submission – an essay, poem, fiction or nonfiction – accompanied by a photo or illustration from Young Writers Project.
YWP publishes about 1,000 students’ work each year here, in newspapers across Vermont, on Vermont Public Radio and in YWP’s monthly digital magazine, The Voice. Since 2006, it has offered young people a place to write, share their photos, art, audio and video, and to explore and connect online at youngwritersproject.org. For more information, please contact Susan Reid at sreid@youngwritersproject.org.
“Every dog has its day,” so the saying goes – and if only that were true. After reaching a certain age, the chances of an animal’s adoption out of a shelter greatly diminish. Burlington writer Margaret Clark is aware of this harsh reality herself, penning this week’s heartwarming story of the critical decision that must be made between a puppy and a senior canine with much love left in her heart.
Choices
By Margaret Clark, 11
[I] stare at the young puppy. His eyes reflect the light, and his tongue wags freely about his mouth. “I’ll think about it,” I whisper. The puppy paws at his cage, its face filling with dread as I turn in the other direction. When I look back, though, I see he has already forgotten my face. He chases his tail, never once thinking about the home he might have had.
I pass cages full of newly born pups until I reach the end of the line. An old Collie lifts her worn head just to rest it on her leg once again. I realize she has been in this situation time and time again. She knows the drill. A little girl or boy takes one look at her and turns in the other direction. Too old, too tired, too worn down, they think.
“Miss, the shelter is closing in five minutes. Are you thinking of adopting Princess? I wish someone would, it’s almost like she knows her clock is ticking. Just a few more years and it’s ‘hello doggy heaven.’”
I know this tactic for getting people to buy the older dogs, but the words stick. They soak into me and echo in my head. I stare into Princess’s eyes and imagine her eyelids fluttering. She tries to keep them up – she knows her fate. One day she will never wake up, and die cold and alone with no one to love. But then I think of the young puppy. In a few years, this could be his fate.
It seems like hours go by before I say, “I’ll take her… I’ll take Princess.”
As I walk out holding Princess’s leash, I stare back at the puppy. He seems to smile right before he closes his eyes and falls fast asleep.