My dog, Clover, is a 16-year-old blind female Siberian husky. I’m thirteen and I’ve had her all my life. When Clover was little, she got hit by a car and caused her blindness. She’s used to being blind but she still stumbles around the house a lot and bumps into things. I know she tries but she just bumps into things so much and I’m afraid she might get hurt. Well, I was right, but not in the way I’d expected.

One day, Clover and I were going on a walk. She was trotting along beside me then suddenly she darted across the street, right in front of a big blue suburban. The car tried to stop but couldn’t in time and hit her. I yelled her name and ran forward. The driver got out of his car and ran to look at Clover. He apologized and I told him the truth: it wasn’t his fault. Clover just darted into the middle of the street and he couldn’t do anything about it. I was upset, of course, but nothing could’ve been done. I called my mom and told her what happened then called the animal hospital. An ambulance came and took her away, me in it with her.

My mom and dad met me in the waiting room of the animal hospital and we sat down together. A few minutes later, a nurse came out and told us that Clover might not make it; the car had really hurt her. Immediately, tears rushed down my cheeks at the thought of never seeing Clover alive again. I couldn’t believe what was happening! The nurse told me that they would do all they could to save her to make me feel better but it didn’t help much. My dad told me that Clover was getting old anyway. She was having a hard time too, being blind and old. I knew he was right but I couldn’t say so. My parents took me home and I went to my bedroom, hoping for a miracle that would save Clover’s life.

Worry took over me and I barely did anything but hang around with a phone next to me in case the hospital called. But luckily, it was still late June so I wouldn’t have to go to school with thoughts about losing Clover.

I didn’t eat much at all. Just when I’d gotten pretty hungry, I’d eat but then lose my appetite after a few bites. I was so upset; I couldn’t handle acting normal when death’s hands could take Clover away from me forever.

One week after Clover was admitted into the animal hospital, my parents called me down to the dining room for a little talk with me. My dad said that he knew that I was going through a lot of pain since Clover might not make it. But we could go to an animal shelter and look for a dog if she died. Tears ran down my cheeks at the thought but I decided to give it a try; we were going to go tomorrow. I left and went back up to my bedroom to paint some pictures of Clover.

I barely slept during the night but in the morning, I was ready to go the shelter.

There were a lot of dogs there and a lot of different breeds like Dalmatians, German Shepherds, Chihuahuas, Retrievers, Greyhounds and lots more. I found a little German Shepherd- Husky mix that looked kind of like Clover. My eyes filled with tears at the sight of the dog because she reminded me of Clover, but I rubbed the tears away from my eyes. I said I liked her so she was put on hold for us. Then my dad saw my red eyes and took me home a few minutes later.

At home, I went to my bedroom to wait by my phone and paint more pictures of Clover.

Late at night, I was sitting on my bed, looking at some photos of Clover from a photo album, crying lightly, when my parents called me down to the living room. I had a feeling the hospital called and I hoped for my miracle to come true that Clover would live.

However, when I got downstairs, the news I feared reached my ears: Clover died. Right then and there, I collapsed on the floor and burst into tears. The dog that I’d had ever since I was born was gone forever. Never again would I feel her cold, wet nose or the warmth of her fur in the cold winter. My parents came over to comfort me but I waved them away; I wanted and had to be alone for a while. My tears hit the floor again and again, and I just stayed where I was. I don’t know how long I’d been there, but at some point, my mom led me to my room and into my bed. I never moved. I stayed there and thought about all the happy times with Clover, crying endlessly, the pain never receding.

It was bright outside when I got up and dressed. I got the pictures I painted of Clover and hung them all up on my bedroom wall. I was putting the last one up when my dad came in. He asked me if I wanted to go get the dog from the shelter that I’d liked. I followed him into the car to get the dog because I just needed something to do.

The dog was ready when we got there so all my dad had to do was sign the adoption forms. I didn’t realize my dad was asking me what I wanted to name her until he shook my shoulder. I thought a moment and came up with Meadow. I picked that name because when Clover was little, I went to the woods with her and we went into a meadow that was full of clovers. Clover loved to roll around in the clovers and smell them. My dad knew why I’d chosen Meadow as a name even though I hadn’t told him. He just gave me a small squeeze and took Meadow’s leash and led me out the door. As I was leaving, though, I noticed some posters with pictures of homeless dogs that had been abandoned and hurt badly that asked for donations. The posters also showed some blind dogs and that reminded me of Clover wandering around and bumping into things. Suddenly I had an idea.

At home, Meadow ran with me to my bedroom and jumped onto my bed. I pat her on the head as she lay down. I sat in my desk chair and pulled out some paper and began forming my plan.

Later that day, I proudly introduced it to my parents. The plan was to create an organization that raised money to save homeless, abandoned and injured animals. I’d call it ‘Clover’s Cause’. I would make posters with Clover’s story and my phone number for people call so they could give donations. My parents thought it was a good idea so I got started right away.

By dinnertime, I’d managed to make thirty posters and I continued my work in the morning. At early evening, my parents drove me around the city to help me put my 145 posters up.

I had dinner at home and fed Meadow, waiting and hoping that maybe I’d get some calls. Luckily, some people felt bad for me and donated some money to Clover’s Cause. Then as the days went by, more and more people donated money. Word had spread of Clover’s Cause and hundreds of people started donating money. Clover’s Cause was becoming a success!

Soon, I started making posters with before and after pictures of the animals that I’d saved with ‘Clover Saved Me’ across the top’. Those earned me even more money. I decided to make some t-shirts saying things like ‘Support Clover’s Cause’, ‘Clover Saved Me’ with before and after pictures of animals that had been saved by Clover’s Cause, and ‘Clover’s A Hero’. But the shirts weren’t lying.

So, wherever Clover is now, I’d like her to know that she’s a hero. Whether she knows it or not, she saved a lot of animals from death and abandonment and gave them good homes. Together we can save the lives of animals. Together we can make difference.