ANNA MONICA

Sam the dog will be missed

There is a big part of me that wants to go back to early last week. Then, Sam would still be alive. He was my neighbor’s dog, a bird dog or English Pointer. Gloria’s son, Billy, found Sam for her after Linus had died of cancer. Gloria has always had a dog in her yard. He was living with a man who couldn’t afford to keep him, so when Sam came to Garyville to live he found a good life with steady meals. During his period of adjustment, Sam wouldn’t move off of the back yard swing; it was his safe place, and he wouldn’t venture far from it, perhaps just to his food and water dishes which Gloria always kept filled nearby for him. Gloria’s now late husband, R.J., wasn’t well at that time, but he loved his bird dog and would come out to the swing to sit with him. Sam never lacked for love or attention at the Borne home. He greeted everyone who came in at the gate and got plenty of petting. Anyone could see that Sam never met a person, place or thing that he didn’t like. If Cameron was here working on my house, it was understood that Sam would do the supervising. Absolutely nothing went on between Gloria’s house, my house or neighbor Gert Crotty’s house that didn’t involve Sam. Everybody accepted him. There was no reason not to. Sam really was no trouble at all if you discounted the times he chewed up paper and other junk in my yard, slept overnight in my bed of monkey grass, carried away my outside shoes and gloves and left it up to Gloria to call me to tell me where I could find my missing morning paper. I would almost trip over him daily as he waited at my back door for Eppie Jo to come out and play. They were best friends and played together every day. No day was complete for either of them without the other. This went on for several years. Eppie Jo was much bigger than Sam, but Sam was faster and had no trouble leaping over my vinyl back yard fence, sometimes without touching it, to get away. At other times I kept waiting for the fence to come down. And that was after he had easily climbed over Gloria’s metal fence. Sam didn’t need or care about a gate to go through because leaping over the fences was as natural to him as breathing. Gloria and I would have been happy to have him gain about 25 pounds so he would be too heavy to leap. Now Sam is gone, and it hurts. He didn’t know danger and ran right in front of a vehicle; it was strictly an accident. However, it does anger me that Sam wouldn’t have ventured out if there weren’t so many stray dogs on our streets, some of them in season. Six of them greeted me in my yard early in the morning last week, and it’s happening with regularity. What really gets me are the neglectful owners who don’t keep their dogs in or have them sterilized, leaving them out there to procreate at will so more orphaned animals will roam the streets. There is no one to pick them up or care for them. It is a pitiful situation. It cost us Sam. After Gloria called me to tell me about Sam, I thought about the treat I had just given him. It never occurred to me it would be the last time I would pet him and tell him to “go home.” It is hard for us to talk about it. My Doberman is grieving, at a loss and looking for Sam. I cried when I told her about her friend. It’s not silly when you have loved something. All of us who knew Sam are upset. We can’t change what has happened, but that gentle little white dog with the brown spots leaves a big empty spot in our lives. It’s been a tough week.