Sam at Eleven

Sam is my dog. He is sweet and neurotic. I got Sam from a friend of mine whose daughter found Sam and his sister by the side of the road near Chico, California on a rainy and cold day. They were muddy and wet and starving. They were about 3-4 months old. She scooped both of them up and took them down to Oakland, to her mother. Suzanne, the mother, is an animal masquerading in a human body. She knew that I was mourning the loss of my dear Alfie - large, male Australian Shepard with a big plume of a tail and the sweetest disposition I had ever known. Alfie died of cancer a year before. Three days before he died, I took him for a very slow walk in my neighborhood of South Berkeley. He saw our neighbor, Anna. Alfie loved Anna and Anna loved Alfie. He had very little energy at this time, but enough to wag is tale for Anna. She petted him and told him what a good boy he was, and he proceeded to lift his leg and pee on Anna's foot. She, being tolerant of all things dog, laughed at this occurence and told Alfie she was honored to be the object of his marking. Sam is similar to Alfie, and I can imagine him doing something similar with Roxanne, the woman who cares for him when I am away. Sam loves Roxanne.

I think Sam is close to the end of his life. He sometimes stops on our walk and looks at me with bewilderment and confusion. His joints, all of them, are arthritic, so we limp around the block, not walk. He has had a very good life with Nancy and I and our two cats. When Sam and I limp around the block, our longhaired cat, Tallulah, follows us up to the end of our street. She reconnects with us about half a block from our completion and we all go slowly home.

One last remembrance about the day I met Sam. Suzanne called and invited me to breakfast at her house - it was a Saturday. I was happy to have breakfast with her. What I did not know was that her daughter was there - with both puppies. Sam's sister was very hyperactive and barked alot at all of us. Sam was shy and did not bark. I sat down on the floor near their box and said, "Suzie, it's too soon for me to get another dog. I am still mourning Alfie." She said, "I know that, just enjoy them." After a few minutes of petting both puppies on the floor, Sam quietly climbed on my lap and fell asleep. I was his from that moment on, and he was mine.

I saw a bumper sticker the other day that said, "Save yourself: Get a dog" I have saved myself.