…you know I don’t do well with dog death. This is why, if a dog is a character in a book or a movie, my friends pre-read or pre-screen for me, or give me a “dead dog disclosure.” It’s why, one year when Timmy did not pre-read a book he gave me, after I finished it, I took a photo of my tear-and-mascara-stained face, then e-mailed the photo to him with a simple, “Thanks!” much to his remorse. (Don’t worry. I’ve forgiven you, Timmy.)
It’s why, when Lynne had bad news to deliver last week, she freely admitted to being a coward and calling Tim so he could tell me instead of calling me herself.
Though I’m sad that a wonderful dog has left our lives, there’s so much to be grateful for. We’d never have known him if his previous family hadn’t encountered a challenge. As much as they loved him and wanted him, their baby was severely allergic to him. Jess and Laura, even with two large dogs already in their home, made room for this gentle giant. They chose to keep him when their own newborn complicated logistics, although there was another home willing to take him. Laura said she just couldn’t let him go through another displacement.
So he stayed. He was nothing but good. Nothing but loving. Nothing but kind. In spite of his size and his big bark, he had the sweetest of natures. His name, which he already had when he came to Laura and Jess, is one of my favorite names. I’ve used it for two characters–one in an unpublished novel, and one in a just-published novel.
In his last hours, Lila played with him, laughing, falling on him, and burying herself in his thick coat. He loved the attention and understood that he was her guard and protector as well as her playmate. He embodied everything that is good and noble about dogs in general and his breed–bullmastiff–in particular.
Sam, you will be missed.
I’m so sorry to hear this, Becky. What a beautiful dog. Sam looks like he would have been the gentle giant sort. We’re so lucky to have animals like dogs as our companions.
I’m glad I got to know him through Jess and Laura. He was a good soul.
Oh, no! How sad!
I see some grey in his face. Did he go of old age?
He was younger than their average lifespan, but he was heavier than most bullmastiffs and also had hip dysplasia and maybe some dental problems. After Lynne had been babysitting and was driving away, he got up to look out the window to see her off with the other dogs, then fell–from a possible heart attack. He died instantly.
Awwww…so sorry. he’s a pretty dog.
I loved to hug him. He was a good boy.
Thanks for this story, about his finding a second home and all, with Jess and Laura. They were good to him, and hopefully knowing that about themselves will soften their blow.
They really were good to him. He had fun with their Seig and Sue, and was always kind to Lynne’s Minute and Sparky.
🙁
oh, i’m so sad to hear this! nothing better than a big ol’ sweet puppy.
I know. He was a good boy.
teary eyed early in the morning, but thank you for a lovely tribute – such a good-natured face 😉
Yes, he was a sweetheart. Those big dogs can be so gentle. It’s really amazing.
Sending you hugs, Becky.
Thank you–and I will pass them on to Sam’s loving family.
I absolutely adore that first photo. That’s the good stuff to remember when you start to feel bummed about losing Sam.
I love that photo, too. Sam’s so huge you can’t even tell Laura is pregnant.
This has not been a good month for doggies. My friend Steven’s dog Pluto died of cancer, and when he told me about it, he was so shell-shocked. It was hard not to start crying right there. I’m so, so sorry, hon.
Jeffrey R.
Aw. I’m sorry to hear about Pluto. Anyone who’s lost a dog knows that hollow feeling.
He looks like a lovely (and loved) dog. I still can’t bring myself to even think of having a dog in the home after Chopper went (and that was more years ago than I care to admit).
Also, in fair warning: Do not read ‘The Art of Racing in the Rain.’ It’s a beautiful, wonderful, fantastic story written from the dog’s point of view, but the ending left me a bit of a shambles – even though you see it coming a mile off, and it’s not a bad thing – so if you’re prone to that, as is my hubby, just don’t read it. Or, bring a few boxes of tissues. One or t’other.
Not reading it–that’s my option!
Movies are the worst, because I’m so often sucked into them before I even know a dog will appear. As soon as a dog shows up, I get so tense that the movie stops being enjoyable–unless someone can reassure me that the dog isn’t going to get it.
After Titanic, I don’t think I was weeping for Jack and Rose but for those dogs getting onto the ship at the beginning.
Okay, maybe a LITTLE for Jack and Rose.
I’m glad Nathan had the good sense to recommend you not read it. I finished it last week, and while I enjoyed it, I’m glad Mike was already asleep (I read in bed) so he didn’t hear me blubbering toward the end.
Jeffrey R.