Enough Dog

I am a dog person and in saying that what I mean is that I bring my dogs into the house and let them lounge on the furniture (when no one is looking) and jump on our bed and give them extra snacks so they'll love me more and basically let them have the run of the house. When Joel and I bought our first house in 1998 it didn't take long for us to bring home our first addition. Cole was an eighty pound eleven month old black lab puppy when we adopted him in October 1998. Over the next few months he continued to grow and grow and by the summer of 1999 he had reached his full height (he could easily rest his chin on our kitchen table) and weight (right at 105 pounds).  He was a lot of dog, some would say enough dog.  Joel definitely thought he was enough dog.

In late September 1999 I was out walking when I ran into my neighbor who was also out walking and she had the most beautiful golden retriever-ish puppy I had ever seen. I fell in love with him at at first sight - I mean absolutely totally overcome with love for this sweet-faced puppy the minute I looked at him.  I knew she fostered pets for a local pet rescue and I was so happy to find out the puppy needed a home.  When Joel got home from work later that afternoon I mentioned the puppy next door.  Joel said we had enough dog.  I thought about what he said and decided that we did have a lot of dog, but I wasn't quite sure we had enough dog.  These things are a judgement call when it comes right down to it and Joel and I judged differently.  That's why when Joel got home from work the next afternoon the puppy from next door was there - strictly on a one-night trial basis.  And that's how the words "trial basis" became a running joke at our house for a long long time.

The first thing we did was brainstorm to find a name for our new puppy.  Our neighbors were calling him Chase, but Joel and I agreed that either way you thought about it "Chase" was a terrible name for a dog.  After much discussion we settled on the name Sam, although it took a while for that name to settle on him.  He was a dog of a thousand names - Sammy Sosa, Sam-I-Am-a-Sam, Sammy BluePaws, Sammy the Raccoon, Sammy de Pantaloons, Fluffy, Fluffinator, Little Dog and Haji.  Yeah, that last name is a long story. Actually, many of his names are long stories. As an aside I'll tell how he got his most infamous name - Sammy BluePaws. Sam was on our bed chewing up a blue ink pen. The pen exploded, which must have scared him because he jumped off the bed and proceeded to leave a trail of blue paw prints from our bedroom into the hallway and down the stairs and around the living room and back up the stairs and through the hall and into the bedroom and back up onto the comforter again where we found him sitting in a puddle of blue ink.  His paws were blue for days. The carpet still had faint blue paw prints on it when we moved out a year later.

Sam was a dog's dog.  He liked to be outside, he liked to drink from the toilet, he liked to dig holes in the mud and lay down in them.  In his younger years he hunted birds and turtles and rabbits and on two memorable occasions brought his catch of the day into the house, I can only guess as presents for us.  He was Cole's Little Buddy.  We told people that "This is our dog Cole and this is Cole's dog Sam." Cole was our dog who needed people.  Sam was our dog who needed another dog.

We shared almost eleven wonderful years with Sam and although we weren't ready to let him go, the last year had been difficult for him.  His buddy Cole passed away very suddenly in early March 2009 and in the weeks after Cole's death Sam seemed to age considerably.  We adopted a new dog, Jack, partly as a buddy for Sam and partly to try to fill the huge void that Cole's death left in my life. I think that Jack was good for Sam.  We had wondered if Sam would take the lead dog role when Jack came into our lives but Sam wasn't interested.  Jack wasn't interested either and Joel and I laughed that Sam and Jack were waging a "race to the bottom" to see who could be the least in charge. On his last morning with us there was a terrible storm at our house.  About 5am a loud clap of thunder sent Owen and Sarah and Sam running for our bed.  Our sweet Sam snuggled right between me and Sarah until the storm was over.  He passed away later that night.  Joel was sitting on the floor with him at the emergency vet clinic and I was on the phone talking to him until he was gone. 

Sam and Jack

Summer 2009

So, we are a one dog family again and much like Cole, Jack is a dog who needs people.  Joel and I have discussed that Jack makes a good "only dog" and we've both agreed that he really is enough dog.  I still miss Cole every single day and he's been gone for over a year.  I haven't even begun to miss Sam yet.  The two of them together helped shepherd Joel and I through the early years of our marriage and becoming parents and so many other things.  We had the pleasure of watching them grow from playful pups to contented middle agers to sometimes curmudgeony old men and we are all the better for it. They were loved very much and they loved us in return and as my cousin's wife said so eloquently, I'm sure my boys are in doggie heaven "running and playing with youthful speed and young hearts." 

Cole (1997-2009) & Sam (1999-2010)

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