Sam

By Beth Alexander Walsh

     It is an unseasonably warm day for May and I am sitting on my deck. Sam is laying in her usual spot with her nose propped between the railings, and is quietly watching some wild turkeys in a mating dance. As she lifts her nose into the breeze to catch their scent, the long gray hair on the top of her head is blowing, making her look like an aging hyena. In years past, she would bark and whine at the turkeys and me, until the gate was opened; allowing her to chase them into the tree tops with joyful satisfaction. Running and prolonged barking are now an impossibility, as Sam suffers from congestive heart failure, and I wonder if our large yard is a mocking reminder of all she can no longer do. This is the twelfth spring that we have shared this deck together and I know it will be her last. As she repositions her head, and starts to doze, I think back to the first day we met.

     She chose us. I stood with my husband and our three children, ages 5, 9 and 10, in front of a cage at the Northeast Animal Shelter. She stuck her tiny paw through the metal grating, like a bargaining handshake, guaranteeing that we would take her back home with us. She was a funny looking mutt, barely five pounds with big brown eyes, and wiry hair. Her head was much too big for her scrawny body, and she looked like a furry bobble head any time she moved. Her looks were so odd in fact, that our neighbors questioned whether or not she was even a dog. We named our little alien puppy Sam (short for Samantha) and it wasn't long before the rest of her body caught up with her head, becoming twenty pounds of pure personality.

   

 I realize everyone thinks their dog is special. I've had many pets who I've adored and had a special bond, but there is something different about Sam. She has this innate crankiness that makes her even more lovable, and although there is too much to write about Sam for this blog, I will share a few of her quirks.

     She is obsessive about the placement of furniture, toys and food, and has a huge fear of water, vacuum cleaners, thunder, fireworks, lobsters and people touching her paws. She loves Christmas mornings and always insists that she be the first to open gifts! She patiently accepted our pet chickens and hamsters, and loved her bunny friend Hendrix. When the suitcases are gathered in the living room for a family trip, or one of the kids moving to college, she becomes apoplectic, and tries to hide in the car to make sure she is not left behind. She was quick to learn tricks as a puppy and her vocabulary grew to the point where we had to start spelling in front of her, and then... she learned how to spell!

     Before she became ill, barking was her favorite pastime. It became routine to know what was going on outside by the sound of her bark, growl or whine. A general bark usually meant that someone was walking past our house, while an emotional whine meant our neighbor's cat was taunting her below our living room window. A frantic howl, followed by a crash into our back or front doors, always meant that she was confronting her arch enemies; the neighborhood squirrels and our paperboy.

Sam has opened her eyes and is now staring at me. I feel it is a soulful look of mutual understanding of what is inevitable. She is frail and thin, and our walks in the yard are now slow and delibrate, and end with me carrying her back. Her tail still shows her enthusiasm whenever I walk into a room, but I know I must soon decide when to let go. I hope I am brave enough when the time comes.

     Twelve years may not seem a long time, but those years with Sam have coincided with my children maturing into adults. She has been there for all their milestones and achievements, and she will sorely be missed. I know her legacy will live on, in our individual Sam stories, to be told around the dinner table and passed down to future generations. 

Today, however, I am enjoying this glorious May day with my Sam, forever grateful that she chose us.

~Postscript

Our beloved Sam passed away on June 2, 2014.

For more information about adopting a pet, please visit the 

Northeast Animal Shelter