Friday, March 11, 2011

I miss my dog...

I miss my dog...

Its one of the hardest things in the world for me to return home seeing her with such restrained joy.  She whimpers when I walk through the door, a pained whimper of excitement.  Its a sardonic whimper, she is so excited to see me, she jumps around like a young puppy, instead of the 10 year old dog that she is probably in the twilight of her life, but she also knows that my presence is only a fleeting one, that sooner rather than later I will be gone again.  Her actions are a mix of joy and pain.  She's ecstatic to see me again but at the same time, she knows that I'm neither staying nor is she coming with me.  It has been by far the hardest part of moving out; leaving her behind. 

In every way shape or form Samantha is my dog, since the day we picked her up and the whole ride while she sat on my lap.  She always slept near me, in my bed as a puppy until my restlessness became too much for her and she moved to the floor.  For 10 years, on the floor next to me.  On the nights when I'd be out late or not come home at all, she'd sleep like a worried mother.  On those nights, she'd sleep on the edge of consciousness, every noise, every car door, or engine alerting her to my possible return.  And if I did return that night, she'd be there as I opened the door, to make sure I was ok and in one piece before finally settling into a restful sleep.  She's my dog in that, when she was a puppy I'd come home from work everyday to let her out of her crate and take her out to go to the bathroom.  She's my dog in that, if two of us, her family were to stand on opposites sides of the world and call her, she'd come to me 100 times out of 100.  She's my dog because she's my dog.  I was the one that searched for her, I was the one that found her, I was the one that decided she was the one.  At the time, I really wanted a German Shepherd but I have never once regretted the decision to bring Samantha into my life. 

Samantha is my first ever dog.  We had a dog when I was very little but I don't have any memories of her to really remember her at all.   With Samantha, I know everything, I was there for everything.  From bringing her home to being spayed to the surgery to get her cyst removed to the one time she took off and scared me into thinking I might never see her again.  I was there for all the times, she's done something completely goofy to have me in stitches laughing so hard.  The time she sniffed at the bottle of vodka, and her response, her poor head shaking, trying to get that burning sensation out of her nose. The fact that from that day forward she never again tried to sniff at a bottle, no matter how sweet it might smell.  Or the time my brother decided to wall off her little sanctuary with a piece of cardboard.  Whenever she'd get scared or overly excited or just didn't know what was going on, she'd run under the end table, it became her defacto doghouse and she'd hang out in there until everything was settled.  The only problem being that when she got scared she'd sprint in there without really thinking about it.  So on this particular occasion with the hiding space blocked off she goes sprinting head first into the cardboard and bounces off to the hysterics of all who are watching.  She shakes it off and comes back to us with her tail wagging and not thinking anything less of us for playing a trick on her.

And that is Samantha's greatest trait.  She's the sweetest, most gentle and loyal dog I have ever been around.  When I've been at my worst she has always been at her best.  Her love and loyalty never wavering when I was in one of my dark places and couldn't be bothered with her.  The times I was downright mean in telling her to get away from me or physically pushing her away from me when she only trying to be there for me.  To tell me that no matter what she loved me and she'd always stay by my side no matter what I had done or where I was mentally.  Sometimes she was the only solace I took in the world.  Before my nieces came along, she was one of the few things I could look at and just feel at peace with the world, her innocence, her undying love and devotion.  It was one of the few things I put any faith in at times.  And I know throughout that time, I wasn't always the nicest person to her. But I always realized she was there for me.  And I am eternally grateful that she has been such a major part of my life.  I am sure I will have more dogs in the future, but never will take the place she has in my heart.

I love Roxie and Sassy, my two new adopted dogs and the reason I couldn't bring Samantha with me when I moved out.  Roxie and Sammy are about the same age and Roxie is very territorial and she has earned that.  She's an older dog and she's earned the right to be grouchy about where she lives and who lives with her.  I don't fault her at all for that, Her and Sassy are pretty sweet dogs and still have that edge of mischief in them that keeps things entertaining and sometimes even annoying.  I don't think either of these dogs will ever lose that edge to them.  They seem to have too much fun finding whatever trouble they can.  I love these dogs not like an adoptive parent but like they are my own but still I can't help saying and feeling that I miss my dog...

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