R.I.P. Samson

Sweet Samson

May 15, 2001 - March 31, 2012

Last night, Peter and I both cleaned up multiple piles of throw up from Sam.  They were almost entirely blood.  We also cleaned up a lot of bloody diarrhea.  That was how we knew it was time to let Sam go.  He was still trying hard to be our happy, sweet guy.  He was wagging his tail and jumped up on my lap when I sat on the couch.  He gave Evelynd multiple kisses, too.

I miss him a lot already.  It's been difficult with Diego here because he's a black spaniel who is only slightly smaller than Sam was, so every time he pops his head up, I think Sam's back.  So, in his honor, here are a couple of memories.

When I first got Sam, his name was Shadow.  He was advertised in the paper because the people who had him were in an apartment that wouldn't allow dogs and they had two weeks to get rid of him.  He was a year old and they told me that he was housebroken except that, as an unneutered male, he would occasionally mark his spot.  Well, that turned out to be not true at all.  Sam went to the bathroom anywhere and everywhere, including my roommate's bed, which almost caused her to move out.  After a few months, I realized that Samson would freeze when he was yelled at, but he would do anything if you praised him and loved him.  He was instantly housebroken once I gave him treats for going outside.

I decided to change him name from Shadow to Samson because he was so cute.  He had a gorgeous cocker cut.  He was not well behaved.  So, all of his power was in his hair -- like the Biblical Samson.  If he hadn't been so cute, I don't know how much people would have put up with him.

Two weeks after I got him, I had to play a wedding.  I left the backdoor open for Sam and Gino to go in and out as they pleased, as I had always done.  This time, unfortunately, my renter left the gate open when she went to get her laundry.  When I got home, Gino was sitting on the front porch and Samson was nowhere to be seen.  I posted signs around the neighborhood and eventually found a kid who told me that Sam had jumped in their car and they took him to the Humane Society.  I don't know why they didn't call the number on his tag.  When I called the Humane Society, the confirmed that he was there, but they were closed, so I had to wait until noon the next day to pick him up.  (Hefty fines were paid, too.)  I went to the stray area the next day and saw him in a cage.  He was frozen like a deer in headlights.  I called his name, waved to him -- nothing.  It looked like he was telling himself, "Go to your happy place.  Go to your happy place."  When they let him out, he ran to the car, jumped into my lap, flipped himself on his back, and whined the whole way home.  It was like he was telling me what an awful place that was and that he would never run away again.  He never did.

He was often overshadowed by Gino, so the one benefit of having Gino pass on was that I got to know Samson better.  When Gino died, we came home to Sam, who had been alone all day.  He was excited to see us and we thought he didn't even notice that his brother was gone.  When it was bedtime, however, he whined and whined at the door, thinking that we had left Gino outside.  When I told him that Gino wasn't coming back, he hung his head and walked slowly to bed.  He was sad the next few days and when I asked him if he missed Gino, he hung his head again.  But then his eyes lit up and he started rolling around and growling.  It was how Gino had always stretched and Sam had never done it before.  When I said, "Yes!  That's what Gino always did."  He wagged his tail.  Sam tried to take over Gino's roles.  He started sitting next to the bathtub when I was in there every morning and he would follow me everywhere.  

The only time Samson ever got mad at me was when I took him to the doggy dentist.  Not long after Gino died, the vet guilted me into setting up a teeth cleaning for Sam.  I took him in early in the morning and went to pick him up late that afternoon.  The vet tech told me what an incredible dog he was and that they all were fighting over getting to work with him (the same thing would happen with the groomer, too).  They said his teeth were in great shape and they couldn't believe that he'd never had a cleaning before.  So, I was happy and ready to see my sweet boy, but when they brought him in, he immediately started yelling at me.  I was surprised and immediately apologized to him, but he wouldn't hear it.  He turned around and went to the door.  As we were leaving, multiple people working there were saying, "There's Samson.  He's so sweet!"  He kept going, though, just wanted to get out of there.  He yelled at me the whole car ride home and then gave me the silent treatment.  When he saw my neighbor, he ran over to her and started whining.  She asked what was wrong and I told her he had just gotten back from the dentist.  He repeated the same thing when Peter got home.  It took two more days for him to talk to me again, but he eventually forgave me and I never made him go back to the dentist.

The Leinbach family dog sat for Sam while we were in Europe.  They bought him a pirate Halloween costume, which Sam reluctantly put up with.  He would run down the walkway to greet the kids or sit in the doorway and say, "Rrrr," a sound which Evie can imitate very well.  He made a lot of kids extra happy each Halloween.

His one vice: alcohol.  Sam was an alcoholic.

When Evelynd was born, Sam aged quickly.  He was very worried about her and would guard the door when I fed her.  He wanted to keep his eye on her all the time.  He was a great dog-father.   

Samson was so easy.  He was clean and quiet.  He was patient, happy, friendly, and fun.  He liked to play fetch and run.  I could trust him with everybody and everything.  I am really going to miss him, but hope he knows how much he was loved and that he's playing with Gino in doggy heaven.