3. Chance

Dear Mrs. First Lady or To Whom It May Concern:

It struck me as odd that I have written to the President but never to his wife, a woman of much, if not the same amount, of influence. I felt you were just as deserving of a letter – not as though my letters have all too much weight. Let’s not put me up on a pedestal where I most certainly do not belong!

I had all these letters written to the President, not one of them truly addressing any point, but just sort of talking. It made me wonder if he read them, and if he did if he enjoyed reading them – and if he did, would you enjoy them, too? Perhaps your daughters would like to read them. Maybe I can be a sort of comic relief when they feel stressed – a nice letter to make them smile once in a while. I can talk about anything they wish. I can tell them a story, if they’re still young enough for one such a thing.

I don’t know what I’d say to them. If you’ve read my previous letters, you’ll know I just write what comes to my mind. Right now what is on my mind is the final I have this week, and how my internship at the animal hospital is going to end soon…

The internship is through a program called Regional Occupational Program (ROP); the course is called Animal Health Care. I’ve wanted to be a vet for a very long time, and this program has only made my desire stronger. Through it and with it, I have felt the greatest feeling I can muster – and experienced one of the most heart-wrenching losses.

There was a dog named Chance who came in for a few days. There were many things wrong with that Labrador. He was living on three legs; he had a cancer his owner couldn’t pay to treat; he wasn’t eating; he had a few other things I’m not inclined to describe.

Chance was always a happy dog, and easy to manage once we got him into the exam room. Walking was pretty tough for my little tripod. I got attached to him – I was there to check him in, to prepare his room, to greet his owner and to make him as comfortable as possible while we all tried to save his life. Chance taught me the importance of being strong, of breaking out of my shell, and of the most difficult task in the animal field. Chance taught me the darker side of the field; the side I could not glorify with dogs walking out the door with wagging tails and owners waiting with open arms. He taught me everything I needed to know, and solidified my goal of becoming a veterinarian.

We put my friend down after his third visit. We found something that just wasn’t fixable, and his owner finally realized just how much her dog was suffering. It’s hard to let go of someone you love, and have loved for many years. It was hard for me to let go of Chance after just three days. We did all we could for him, but in the end he crossed Rainbow Road.

I held his owner’s hand as it happened; she wanted to wait for her son, so she wouldn’t be alone. Then she started talking and remembering all the funny things Chance would do, and I held her hand. She was ready, then, but her son arrived shortly after, anyway, to see Chance before I learned the hardest lesson ever. She gave me a hug before she left. I think I needed it more than she did.

About one month later there was a cat who had gotten into a fight with a coyote – and lived to tell the tale! Or show it, rather. If that cat – such a tiny thing – can do that… What can I do? If that cat can be that strong, who’s to say I can’t thrive, too?

I suppose that’s one of my hardest challenges – convincing myself that I can do it. I haven’t been the best student during my high school career, but I’ve always tried, and I’ve always learned. I can continue learning, too, if only I can convince myself that I have that kind of power.


Truly sincerely, with all due respect,



L., a random civilian