Paws for Celebration

Now it's over that ridge for one last mile
'Til we're fast asleep by the fire side
Dreamin' these dreams for free
Yeah, it's just my dog and me...

"My Dog and Me"

- John Hiatt

Our beautiful, boisterous "super mutt" Samantha is two years old today.  She has gotten better with age.  She still has energy to play DINGO that most nights borders on the boundless when I come in from the office. She still greets Margaret and me when we return home from the grocery store, or dinner, or a movie with an enthusiasm normally reserved to greeting a soldier upon his or her return home from war.  She still plays with her best human buddy, Joe Joe, with a big motor and an even bigger heart.  

Age has, however, smoothed most of the rough edges off her personality.  Several months ago, we invested in home security cameras, the primary purpose of which was to keep an eye on Sam I Am during her "alone time".  I am pleased to say they have not proven to be a worthwhile investment - except for entertainment purposes.  Margaret and I both receive alerts on our phones whenever something happens that triggers the motion detector on a camera.  Far more often than not, the motion detected is Sam changing her position on the living room couch during her morning nap, her early-afternoon nap, and/or her mid-afternoon nap.  

Sam has done something that I thought impossible.  She has filled the hole in my heart that Rosalita's death almost two years ago had opened. While I am clearly the third favorite human in her three-human household, and fall from Tertiary Tim to Fifth-Place Fred whenever we expand her group to include Uncle Joe and Aunt Jill, I do love her very much...although not nearly as much as Sam loves Margaret, with whom she must make physical contact if all three of us are in the living room together.  My wife has not watched a single minute of television without Sam by her side since I cannot remember when. 

She is a tremendous companion and I have grown to so enjoy running with her that when I do not, I often look down at my left arm a couple of miles into a solo run and discover that I am running with it outstretched and with my left hand closed as if I am holding Sam's leash.  Whether she runs with me or not, she never, ever misses the chance to use me as a post-run celebratory salt lick.  

     

We have not told her yet but we shall have a little birthday celebration tomorrow when Maggie and Cal join us for dinner (with their mom and dad, of course).  My granddaughter never passes up a chance to sing "Happy Birthday" and will happily croon a birthday tune for Sam I Am.  I am sure that Sam will have a grand time.  I am also sure that regardless of how grand a time she has, it shall pale in comparison to the time she shall have the next time she and her cousin Rita are able to romp on the beach together.  Quite simply, beach romp time is the grandest time of all...

...although these two do make hanging around doing nothing on a hot summer afternoon look pretty damn grand. 

-AK