Is he a dog? I asked him. Guess what he answered. There were some dogs in the neighborhood but he didn't know any personally. I could see it written all over his face. He was a master of expressions.
Common sense tells us the four legged creature under the dining room table is an animal and shouldn't even be in the house. But what does common sense know about love? How many of us exercise any degree of common sense when dealing with that particular subject?
When I was in middle school, I just had to have a dog. And I knew which parent to approach. "Daddy, can I have a dog?" was fairly close to how the conversation started. I seem to remember my father actually asking what type of dog I wanted.
What type? A German Shepherd, of course. I wanted a dog big enough to scare the x&*$ out of any stranger I might meet on the road. A nice deep growl and aggressive bark could not possibly come from a little dog, after all.
From time to time I hold up my little pinkie and wonder how my father fit around it so nicely. What's the point of being daddy's little girl if there aren't any benefits? Not really. My father did indulge me from time to time. Oh, all right. Just about any time I wanted something, he would get it for me. Fortunately, my wants weren't all that big otherwise he would have had to say no.
We went to look at several dogs until we came across Sam. We were able to get no further then the gate. We were on one side, he on the other. And that's the way it would stay until the lady of the house came outside. She talked, we talked, we left. We came back several days later and took Sam home with us.
The crux of the problem with dogs is they don't seem to realize they are dogs so we tend to think of them as people. I'm not sure what arrangements his former owner had with him, but at our house he was basically an outside dog. At least during the day. He did manage to wiggle his way into the house at night.
My parents decided to sell the house and move closer to the coast. That in itself was not a bad thing. Of course, Sam went with us. What we were not aware of was he had his own agenda. And it wasn't to stay an outside dog, I can tell you.
He figured if we were carting him off to a new location, then some changes were going to be made. The biggest adjustment to his comforts was, once we were in the new house, he was going to be a full time inside dog. I'm still not sure how he pulled it off, but he was successful in his endeavor.
As I said, Sam was a master of expressions. Never one for enjoying a bath, he did consent to be bathed, during the winter (Mild - Oregon) in the bathtub. He displayed his lack of enthusiasm by turning his back and putting his face in the corner.
He wouldn't speak to the bather for the remainder of the day. He was also determined in his punishment of us by refusing to accept a cookie, which he dearly loved. When it was placed in his mouth, he let it fall to the floor.
As you all know, German Shepherds have long hair. Dog hair has the uncanny ability to float around the house to parts the said dog never visits. The point of this article originally started out to simply offer a suggestion in this area. We did the brushing thing. We brushed out piles of hair. Next we started to vacuum Sam. My father had a small 'shop vac' which did a wonderful job of removing the loose hair.
Naturally, Sam didn't care for the process at first. At second, also. Finally he accustomed himself to the procedure. I'm not saying he approved of it. Endured would be more the word of choice. Shop Vac's can be purchased for very reasonable prices. The only key to them is keeping the filter cleaned.
The day finally came when Sam's medical problems overrode his ability to be in the house. Maybe I was selfish, but the thought of him being stuck outside 24/7 was more than we could deal with.
Several years have gone by but Sam is still very much alive in my mind's eye. I can still see myself laying on the floor with him. Or him following my mother around the house, content to lay wherever she was working. (I still think he was always worming his way into her heart. He was good, I'll give him that.)
The empty spot in my heart will never be filled but I take comfort in remembering we had many good years together. My hope for others who have been blessed with a good dog, is when the sting of losing him or her mellows, it will be replaced by the smile the thought your friend will bring to your face when you think of them.
If stress is a problem for you or a friend, send for my e-book entitled "Take Time Out For Me." E-mail me at: Be sure to include the word STRESS on the subject line. Thank you for spending a few minutes with me.
No comments:
Post a Comment