Sam
Meet Sam.
We acquired Sam when the firemen brought Bill a "Cottonelle puppy" a few months after our (his) dog Samson was shot by a pellet gun and we had to put him down.
Sam can be a very relaxed, compliant dog.
His list of intolerance is short.
He does not tolerate opossums, kittens or cats in our yard.
He doesn't like strangers to go past the yard, especially when I am in it.
He didn't like Bill to brush him,
but he would let me brush him for hours.
Same with a bath.
He does well with the grandchildren, even though he was rarely with small children when he was a puppy.
Several years ago the old fence in the back yard blew over.
I went outside, frantic that Sam had escaped.
There he was, sitting behind the building, in our yard, by the fence,
just looking at the ally on the other side.
I could count on both hands how many times he has left the back yard
by himself in the ten plus years we have had him.
Until recently.
Several times a week I have received a call from my neighbor,
"Sam is out."
So I get my shoes on, go outside prepared to hunt for him and there he is, either in her yard or sitting outside our gate, kind of like "I don't know how I ended up here, but I sure would appreciate it if you would let me back in my yard."
When I raised my blinds this morning I saw him across the street outside the art gallery. I came downstairs and he was already waiting to return to the yard. I secured the gate and came in to eat some breakfast before church.
Not ten minutes later I received a phone call.
"Sam is by the log cabin."
The log cabin is across the street in the city park.
I got my shoes on, went out the front door and called for him.
I was a little panicked because I couldn't see him.
And he didn't come.
As I stood trying to decide which way to walk, my neighbor called out, "He's down by that car at the city building".
There he was at the end of our block, sniffing around a parked car.
I called him and watched as he slowly made bigger circles around the car.
And it hit me-
I walked toward him, calling his name and when he heard me he came directly to me, an expectant look on his face. With tears running down my face I told him "He's not coming home."
Sam misses Bill too.
So I spent a little extra time petting him
as I sat on the porch swing in the sunshine this afternoon.
I guess dog walking is in my future.
Have to find the leash first...
We acquired Sam when the firemen brought Bill a "Cottonelle puppy" a few months after our (his) dog Samson was shot by a pellet gun and we had to put him down.
fall 2004
Sam can be a very relaxed, compliant dog.
His list of intolerance is short.
He does not tolerate opossums, kittens or cats in our yard.
He doesn't like strangers to go past the yard, especially when I am in it.
He didn't like Bill to brush him,
but he would let me brush him for hours.
Same with a bath.
He does well with the grandchildren, even though he was rarely with small children when he was a puppy.
Several years ago the old fence in the back yard blew over.
I went outside, frantic that Sam had escaped.
There he was, sitting behind the building, in our yard, by the fence,
just looking at the ally on the other side.
I could count on both hands how many times he has left the back yard
by himself in the ten plus years we have had him.
Until recently.
Several times a week I have received a call from my neighbor,
"Sam is out."
So I get my shoes on, go outside prepared to hunt for him and there he is, either in her yard or sitting outside our gate, kind of like "I don't know how I ended up here, but I sure would appreciate it if you would let me back in my yard."
When I raised my blinds this morning I saw him across the street outside the art gallery. I came downstairs and he was already waiting to return to the yard. I secured the gate and came in to eat some breakfast before church.
Not ten minutes later I received a phone call.
"Sam is by the log cabin."
The log cabin is across the street in the city park.
I got my shoes on, went out the front door and called for him.
I was a little panicked because I couldn't see him.
And he didn't come.
As I stood trying to decide which way to walk, my neighbor called out, "He's down by that car at the city building".
There he was at the end of our block, sniffing around a parked car.
I called him and watched as he slowly made bigger circles around the car.
And it hit me-
"That is part of their walking path.
He is looking for Bill".
I walked toward him, calling his name and when he heard me he came directly to me, an expectant look on his face. With tears running down my face I told him "He's not coming home."
Sam misses Bill too.
So I spent a little extra time petting him
as I sat on the porch swing in the sunshine this afternoon.
I guess dog walking is in my future.
Have to find the leash first...
Praying for Sam...And for you..May you find solace in each other's company...
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