Jim McPartland

I knew when I woke up this morning, it’d be lousy. Normally at 4 AM, the first thing I do is let the dogs out for their bathroom break. No matter how many times I’d asked them to not bark at the varmints that cascade through the woods that surround my house, their canine instincts told them to do otherwise. Many a morning I was berated for ‘waking up the neighbors’, although they never complained.

The deer played joyfully this morning as there was no barking. Buck was quiet.

 And Sam---?

The last bark I heard from her days 3 days ago.

In May of ’95 we were living in a 2 bedroom/1 bath condo in Bridgeport. I’d saved enough money through stock options I had that we could go house shopping that fall and buy something. My boys were 5 and 3 at the time. I hadn’t had a dog since the early 80’s and I was itching (sans fleas) to get one. I decided, without spousal input (she’d frown on anything that was perceived to be more work for her) to go to the Bridgeport Animal Shelter and save a life.

When I entered, I explained what I needed- friendly, good with little kids. Without hesitation, they brought me to a Sheppard/Collie mix that was abandoned on exit 27 on 95. 37.5 lbs. I know this because I still have the $5 receipt.

I looked at her and said ‘Done”.

The boys were thrilled when they got home from school. We tried to give her a bath, she wasn’t as excited.

After toying with names for a day or two, Elizabeth Montgomery from Bewitched died. As our new friend tilted her head and raised her ears when you said something she didn’t quite get- much like EM when Darren asked her why she did something silly, only to respond “Well???”

I settled on Samantha-for Samantha Stevens.

Sam had energy as a puppy. The papers said she was around 9 months, so I figured September 13, 1994 was her birthday. I jogged/walked her a couple miles each morning- couldn’t afford a gym membership at the time. I remember singing Aimee Mann’s ‘Sugarcoated’ that played on my walkman at 5 AM most days. I also recall one morning when a couple kids said “That dog is SO cool” as we walked by. Sam was a happy camper.

We bought our house based on an empty lot and set of plans that November. It was finished and we moved in May’96. I have a video when we came in the spring and Sam decided to jump out a window that was 15 feet off the ground. Never missed a step.

Other vids we have showed her speeding around the yard like Speed Racer with the kids. I never needed an electric fence because Sam was smart enough to not wander far.

Sam had a penchant for belching. I thought about doing Letterman’s Stupid Pet Tricks. She’d do it at anytime and be so loud that strangers would be startled. I’d tell them it was a heavy night of Bass ale.

She barked at strangers, UPS and the Mailman. Never threatened to bite anyone, though. More like “You’re on my turf. What cha want?”

She gained some weight the past few years and people used to say she was fat. Funny thing was, THEY were fat too. I almost would say stuff like “Far be it for you to throw stones” but saying that to a woman may have, in fact, caused a rock to come hurdling.

I had put her on a strict diet as the vet warned of kidney problems around 4 months ago. She lost some weight, was looking good and acting well.

A few days ago I noticed she wasn’t eating- even turning her head at table food, which historically sent her into a ravenous Night of the Living Dead corpse fest. I called the vet Thursday and made an appointment.

Friday morning I get up and she slowly huffs towards the door to go out. She fell down my back steps. I sat with her for a few minutes and knew it was going to be a long day.

She eventually made it to the bushes. I sat with her in the shrubs for 3 hours; I thought she was going to stop breathing. She came out to lie on the grass but couldn’t do much more than that. I spent the whole day just lying next to her. I called the Vet again, saying if it ‘was time’, I’d much rather do it at my house than a sterile office. He said ‘You never know. I may be able to fix her, at least for a few days”. I knew that wasn’t going to happen.

My son and I managed to get her onto a small table we had as it was hurting her to be picked up. With her favorite blanket wrapped around her, taking her like an ambulance without its lights flashing because there is no rush, we make the short journey. She was more awake now, seemingly better.

After waiting in the car for ½ hour, Dave the Vet came out. Takes a deep breath when he looks at her. Feels her stomach (she winces).

“Without doing tests, I can tell you she’s got a tumor that’s internally bleeding. If you take her home, she will die tonight or tomorrow”.

The last thing I needed, as much as I’d have liked her to go on my lawn where she spent a lot of time, is to have one of my kids find her in the dining room.

The Vet said “Take her in the back yard here. Spend time with her. I’ll come out in a few minutes and give her a general anesthetic”.

With the leaves swirling around us  in a cool breeze, I just laid with her. She seemed accepting of the situation.

The shot took around 5 minutes to put her into a deep sleep. All the while with me whispering sweet nothings in her ear. It’s weird but it’s been a long time since I’ve had the opportunity to do that for anyone.

Dave came back out and gave her the lethal shot, which killed her instantly.

She may have not suffered, but I’m still feeling the effects this morning and writing this only makes me cry again.

They call female dogs ‘bitches’. I’ve never understood that. Sam, unlike MANY women I’ve met or known, was never a ‘bitch’. She was ALWAYS happy to see me. Was the ultimate “Welcome home, Jim” and never doubted me-unlike many others.

Money can’t buy love. $5 bought it for me. That’s a good investment for a little over 14 years.

#2 Dog Buck is 7. I do not look going through this again and as much as I love dogs am not rushing out to get another to own anytime soon.