The Life of Sammie

Sammie became a part of our family on August 13th, 2013.  I wasn't ready for another dog, but Robert was ready to have his own canine companion, so we were looking.  Our first encounter with her was at the house of a rescue volunteer who was fostering her until she'd weaned her puppies.  She came walking into the room and promptly curled up in Robert's lap.  She seemed so sweet and gentle and just wanted to be loved.  We couldn't wait for her to finishing weaning so we could bring her home.  We knew we could provide her with a much better life than she'd experienced so far, which was being left in an abandoned house with newborn puppies.

A few weeks later we brought her home and after only a few days I was experiencing buyer's remorse.  She was only partially house-broken, was aggressive (bossy, not mean) towards other dogs she met on walks, she pulled hard on the leash no matter how many obedience classes she went to and she wanted attention and to be played with...ALL THE TIME!  I knew that everyone else loved her, but I wasn't a fan.  I was going to have to endure.

She got into the flower gardens.  She chased anything that moved.  While waiting for us to let her in the backyard she would get into a crouch and tense up like a coiled spring before almost exploding through the door once the opening was just big enough for her.  She would grab her closest toy, usually a kong or tennis ball and thrash her head side to side, growling menacingly to let all creatures know - mostly squirrels - what she'd do if she caught them.

Inside the house she'd grab her toys wanting to play never-ending tug-o-war with us.  When we got tired of it she'd keep pushing the toy into our laps.  She'd eventually give up and just chew up her toys until they were shredded and the squeakers and/or anything dangling were thoroughly removed.  No toy survived Sammie.  She couldn't have nice things...except us, I guess.

She was a licker.  If you tried to pet her on the head, she'd turn her face up and lick your hand.  If you were wearing shorts, she'd lick the back of your leg.  Any body part that got close to her face got licked.  If you were putting on socks, it was a given she was going to try to lick your toes.

I tried hard not to love her.  She got on my nerves.  She would come over and just stare at me until I finally played with her.  She'd reach up and put a paw on me to get my attention.  When I'd tell her to go lay down, she'd do it again.  She had no manners when it came to leaving me alone.  She demanded that I pay attention to her and love her.

Sammie suffered from not being like other dogs I'd had.  She didn't measure up in my eyes so therefore I tried not to like her.  My other dogs were more laid-back and relaxed.  They didn't dig holes or chase birds or constantly pester me for attention.  They weren't demanding or high maintenance.

She was nothing if not loyal to all of us, even grumpy old me who had done his best to pretend she wasn't worth my time. You can't hold back a tidal wave and I had to grudgingly admit that I was starting to love this pestering, high-energy "no good dog" as I affectionately called her.  She had sweetness about her despite her "play-play-play" mentality.  She loved to lay under our feet when we watched TV.  She was usually positioned so it would require yoga-like moves for any of us to stand up from our chairs or the sofa.  Getting stepped on, I think, was like a hug for her.  It reminded her we were close to her.

She loved to go for a ride in the car...anywhere.  Even to the end of the street and back.  It didn't matter, as long as she was in the car.  She loved to go on walks.  If she could hear the jingle of the leash, she'd come running.  She loved the snow and jumping around in it.  She loved laying on our back deck in Vienna in the sunshine.  She even liked being on the gliders, especially with Neta and me. She had her own bed in Robert's room, but she "snuck" into his bed and slept with him at night.

We weren't sure how the move to Georgia would affect her, but she took it in stride.  The new houses, both rental and our new one, didn't seem to bother her at all.  The biggest change for her was when Lulu Belle came into the picture.

Their friendship was tentative at first.  They were fine for the most part, but if Sammie got too close Lulu would give her a low growl that she wanted to be left alone.  Sammie couldn't seem to understand why this other dog didn't love her when it was obvious that everyone else did.  Lulu Belle was older and more set in her ways and Sammie just had to figure it out.  Lulu did not like to play.  But it didn't take long before Sammie would be laying out in the sunshine of the front yard of our rental house and Lulu plopped down next to and almost on top of her.  Neither moved.  They were now best friends.

I had already changed my mind about Sammie by this point and really loved her, but seeing the two of them together and seeing how loving and caring Sammie was to the older Lulu really struck a chord with me.  Sammie was a different dog now.  She had a companion to run and play with...someone who fully understood her...one dog to another.  They both ended up bringing out the best in each other.

By the time we moved to the farm, we'd debated whether we'd let them run free or have a fenced in area.  We decided to test them off leash a couple of times.  They mostly stuck by us, but Lulu being the original free spirit that she was - finding her as a stray here on the farm - she ran off and Sammie followed her lead.  Sammie came back first, but left again when she saw Lulu off in the distance.

Eventually we started letting them run free around mid-morning.  They'd run off for a few hours and come back by early afternoon, wet, dirty and tired.  They'd lay in the front yard, barking at the rare car or truck that comes down our road.  Lulu would want to come in and sleep, but Sammie maintained front yard vigil until almost dark.  Sometimes she needed to be coaxed.  She loved looking over her domain.

This past Thursday (Feb 9), Sammie was in the front yard as usual and Lulu was in the house.  I went outside to cut up a large limb that broke off one of the large pecan trees.  Lulu ran out with me.  Both dogs hung around me for a few minutes then off they ran towards the big pond.  Within about an hour I finished up what I was doing and came inside.  Just about dusk Lulu came back from the direction of the pond, tail high and wagging, trotting along without a care in the world.  I figured that Sammie would be along shortly.

As the hours ticked by, we kept glancing out the window.  The house was ablaze with all outside lights so she could see it on her way home.  I drove around the property and some of the local roads looking for any sign of her, making one last pass around 11pm.  We left the lights on and fixed a bed for her in the crate out on the carport hoping to find her on the doorstep when we woke up the next morning.

The next morning, with no sign of her, the feeling that something bad had happened took hold. I took several walks around our farm and the farm next door looking for her.  Neta and I drove some other roads looking that evening.  On Saturday we called the people that own the next farm over to get permission to walk around their property where Neta and I spent several hours, but no sign of Sammie.

We knew that if she could come home she would, so our gut tells us that probably a coyote or something got her.  We've looked in all of the places that we can, but the reality is that she's very likely gone and somewhere we can't find her.  What troubles me the most is how with our previous dog Sadie, when she finally got too sick to go on, Neta and I took her to the vet and had her put down.  We were there with her to comfort her and did all we could to ease her suffering right up to the very end.  I think about poor Sammie, out there alone and none of us were able to be there to comfort her.  I've had that thought since the night she didn't come home and it fills my thoughts and makes me heart ache for her.

I think about her all the time and will for a while, I'm sure.  Despite my early attempts to ignore her and not like her, she just kept putting a paw on me, looking at me with those eyes and she asked me to love her.  She was pushy and wouldn't take no for an answer.  She was not like any other dog I've had...and like all the others she melted my heart.  What I wouldn't give to feel that paw again.  I will truly miss her.  We all will.