Young Writers Society

Mother had taken me to a special pet store in which they only sold trained dogs for disabled people. Disabled people? Well, that's me.

The worker we met there led us to a place, where he said were the best seeing dogs for kids. Seeing dogs were for blind people, and they were meant to guide them around. I've thought of them before, but never really considered getting one. I think Mother was preparing me for school.

My two favorites were Jamie and Cookie. The worker said,"Jamie is a dark chocolate brown, and Cookie is tan, black, and white."

I had asked for the colors, and I got what I wanted. Chocolate was a very tasty food. Maybe chocolate brown was a very awesome color, too. I wanted Jamie, and Mother let me.

I heard her haul a big crate with my new pet dog in it. I think we were going to the check out counter, but I wasn't completely sure. Mother stopped, and she started talking with someone.

"We'll take Jamie. Does he have any medical problems?" Mother asked, and I knew then that we were definitely at the checkout counter.

"No. He'll need to be walked daily, but I'm sure that's not a problem," someone said. He had a very deep voice and it irritated my ears. I didn't like it that much.

Jamie barked and I told him to shush. He immediately quieted down. I hoped I had picked the right one. Mostly it was because chocolate brown sounded like a great color.

There was a shuffled of papers, most likely forms, and I waited as patiently as I could, but it was a bit hard, especially when you're getting a dog.

As I waited, I thought. Was Sheila feeling okay? Maybe that's why she didn't wake me up that day Mother introduced me to Braille, she was sick. I think she'll be fine, though. It's just the stomach flu. Everyone gets it sometime in their life.

"Ember, let's go." Mother said, her voice urging me to hurry up. I don't think she wanted to come here, but she knew if I was going to school I would need something to help me.

I walked forward, and bumped into Mother. "Ow," I whisper to myself, even though it didn't hurt. I have a habit of doing that, whatever bumps into me or collides with me "hurts".

I adjust myself next to her, and my hand is in hers seconds later.

We were walking to the car when I finally ask, "May I rename Jamie? I don't like that name much. Not for a dog, anyway." I crinkle my nose as I wait for Mother to reply. I hope it convinces her, if she was thinking of just keeping the name Jamie.

"Of course." Mother replied. We stopped, and Mother said, "Ember, go ahead and get in the car."

I felt to my left and the car was there. It was very hot and almost burned my hand. I brushed my hand across the car until it came in touch with the handle. From there on I could do everything really easily. Open the door, get in, close the door, and finally, get buckled.

While Mother was putting Jamie in the trunk, I thought of a better name for him. He was chocolate brown, so maybe a food that's chocolate-y? All I could think of was Brownie, and I didn't want that to be his name.

There was Ice cream, but I didn't really like that, either. Or Cheesecake. I sighed, and leaned forward in my chair, so my chin was on a seat in the front.

Mother got in the car and started the engine, right as I thought of the perfect name for my new dog.

Mousse.