Those of you who have been visiting this blog for a while probably remember this day. It was the day Sam came to stay with us as a temporary foster dog.
Rapidly followed by this day, when he became a permanent part of our family.
And he quickly became a beloved member of the pack.
He was never the healthiest dog. He came to us with a crushed pelvis and mostly missing teeth, but he never seemed to notice. He was perfectly happy to hop around on three legs and gum his rawhides, and his tail may have wagged in a wacky circle, but he never stopped wagging it.
He was the dog everyone wanted on a sick day, or a sad day, or a sleepy day.
We always figured he'd make a great therapy dog, because just being around him made everyone feel better.
Even people who don't like dogs, liked Sam.
But the past few weeks, he'd been a little...off. And then something happened to his tongue that required surgery. We were never quite sure what it was. For a few days after that surgery, he seemed like his old perky self. And then he wasn't. He was tired. He lost weight. He wouldn't eat. And yesterday, all he wanted to do was put his head in my lap. Last night, his nose started bleeding and wouldn't stop. The KH took him to the emergency vet late last night and he confirmed our fears. Sam was bleeding internally and there was a large amount of fluid around his heart. I woke the kids and the other dogs and we all went to the vet in the middle of the night to say goodbye to one of our own. Everyone had the chance to pet him and talk to him and give him a last kiss, and through it all, Sam wagged his funny tail and seemed to smile at us all. Then I put my hand on his head and he closed his eyes, and a few seconds later, he was gone. Quietly. Peacefully. With his whole pack around. We didn't have him as long as we would have liked, but we loved him, and in the end, that's what mattered.
Goodbye, Sam. We'll always love you.