Sam & Me
On more than one occasion, my wife has said that I should write a book about my dog, Sam.
I wrote about Sam in April on Wyoming Sports.org and here's an updated version for those new to my blog. Check to the right of the page (under my profile) and you'll see his picture, with the heading, "Sam the dog, the guardian of all that is good."
It probably should read, "Sam the dog, the guardian of all that drives my wife crazy."
Now, don't get me wrong. Teresa loves Sam. He just drives her crazy. It's probably my fault. Many of his bad habits can probably be traced back to me. I let him sleep in the bedroom with us and he likes to begin his night by laying by Teresa's side of the bed. In case you haven't seen the picture of Sam, he's a black lab. A quick jump out of bed in the middle of night is dangerous and often not suitable for children to hear.
Of course, Sam is spoiled. Again, my bad. I have a bad habit of doing that. I'll bet I haven't gone more that four or five years of my nearly 50 on this Earth without a dog. That, I can blame on my dad.
Before Sam, I had Barney (Rat Terrier) and Opie (Golden Retriever/Lab). Yes, both were named from the Andy Griffith Show. I also used to have a cat named Otis. I always figured that if I got a bird, it would be named Aunt Bea. My next female dog will be named Thelma Lou. Would you expect anything different?
Opie and Barney both lived beyond their life expectancy and I miss them to this day. When Barney finally passed a few years ago, I decided I wanted a lab, preferably a chocolate lab. As it turned out, my brother in Rapid City had a friend whose parents had a young lab that they had to find a home for. This was Sam, who had the bad habit of not knowing the difference between work and play on a big cattle ranch. He would get in the middle of the bulls.
Visiting my family at Christmas, I saw Sam and immediately knew that I would take him. I wanted to start again with a puppy and Sam was about 20 months at the time. Close enough, I thought.
Sam also had a previous owner, a middle-aged lady who decided he was too much for him to handle. He then went to the cattle ranch. As could be expected, Sam by now had a few issues with abandonment. It didn't take long for him to latch on to me. And I mean latch. I walk to the bathroom, Sam is behind me. I walk to the basement, Sam is behind me. I walk to the kitchen, Sam is behind me. I move while sitting on the couch, Sam readies himself to follow me.
Teresa's favorite phrase, is "Don't worry Sam, Rich is not going to jump out the window and leave you."
Oh, by the way, when I first got Sam, it was just a couple of weeks after I first met Teresa. I called her while in South Dakota and told her I was bringing back a dog. Little did she know what she was getting into.
When we came back to Laramie, I lived in an apartment (that allowed pets). I got a metal cage kennel for when I was at work. I'd put him in before I went to work and when I came home, he was out. The door was still latched shut. I actually thought my neighbor was letting Sam out.
No, Sam could get out by himself without unlatching the door. As it turned out, even though he was about 80 pounds and had a nice-sized head, he was able to squeeze himself out of the cage (it was a six-piece cage that all latched together). If you looked at the area that he pushed himself out of, the hole was probably five inches deep. I kid you not.
At first, with his abandonment issues, Sam got into everything. One night he chewed on all of my fishing poles, including my late father's fly-fishing reel. Sam would carry all of the dirty dishes out of the sink and scatter them in the living room. He even chewed on the VCR.
He did this once while I was on a business trip to Las Vegas. Teresa would go several times a day to check on him, feed and water him. At first she was afraid to tell me what was happening. I think to this day, that experience traumatized her.
Well, I eventually married Teresa and moved into her home. I decided to buy an outdoor kennel for the back yard -- an eight-foot high kennel. Sam still could get out. He would jump as high as he could and catch his paws on the chain-link, then climb to the top and jump out. I kid you not. My neighbor saw him do it.
Of course, he jumped the back-yard fence and roamed the neighborhood. Did you ever try to find a black lab at night? It's not happening.
This, of course, is in the first year or so that I had him.
Sam doesn't get out or chew on things any more, but like any good lab, he has to have something in his mouth at all times. He panics when we he can't find something. It doesn't mater what it is. It could be a sock, a shoe, a newspaper, a pen, the TV remote control. When we can't find the remote, we go to the back yard and look. It's often there.
Sam once grabbed a shovel and tried to go outside through a regular door in the garage. Labs are lovable, but not always the smartest dog. He actually looked surprised when the shovel stopped him running full speed into a brick wall. At least he didn't pick it up and try it again.
Oh yeah, this now 100-pound dog goes in and out of the house by squeezing through a small doggy-door (10 inches wide, 16 inches deep) that Teresa had put in for her pug, Otis (she named him Otis long before she met me).
Sam still has a bad habit of getting into the garbage. Evidently, no mater how much dog food he eats, which is a lot, he likes human food better. He steals food from the kitchen counter if we aren't careful. He'll take a loaf of bread outside and eat it. I wonder why he is putting on weight?
Unfortunately, I can't leave Sam alone when we go on a trip where we can't take him in the car (flying). He has to be kenneled. To this day, I feel horrible after I drop him off. I often wonder what he thinks. Does he think I am leaving him for good this time? Is he thinking, "It's happening again." I always want to call the kennel when I'm gone to make sure he is OK. But I don't.
We just came back from a nearly week-long trip to California early Saturday morning and we couldn't pick him up until late Sunday afternoon (between 5-5:30 p.m.). I was at work, running the board for the Broncos-Chargers game on the radio, so Teresa and Cassie had to go get him. He was wound up, to say the least. When they got home, he searched the house for me for hours.
I was finally able to take him for his daily run behind Indian Paintbrush Elementary School at about 2 p.m. on Monday. It was his first run in a week. I've learned that my only real purpose in life is to take him for runs. We can't actually say run in our house, as he explodes with excitement. Sam's tail is considered a lethal weapon in 38 states. We have to spell it out like, "I'm taking Sam for a r-u-n." I think he is figuring that out as well.
I guess I'm too late to make millions off of my book. Marley & Me has been a bestseller for years. Maybe I'll make a movie. I know, how about Sam & Me?
What? Marley & Me was just released as a movie on Christmas, starring Owen Wilson and Jennifer Aniston? It's the No. 1 movie in America?
Oh well. I still love my Sam. This blog will have to do.
I wrote about Sam in April on Wyoming Sports.org and here's an updated version for those new to my blog. Check to the right of the page (under my profile) and you'll see his picture, with the heading, "Sam the dog, the guardian of all that is good."
It probably should read, "Sam the dog, the guardian of all that drives my wife crazy."
Now, don't get me wrong. Teresa loves Sam. He just drives her crazy. It's probably my fault. Many of his bad habits can probably be traced back to me. I let him sleep in the bedroom with us and he likes to begin his night by laying by Teresa's side of the bed. In case you haven't seen the picture of Sam, he's a black lab. A quick jump out of bed in the middle of night is dangerous and often not suitable for children to hear.
Of course, Sam is spoiled. Again, my bad. I have a bad habit of doing that. I'll bet I haven't gone more that four or five years of my nearly 50 on this Earth without a dog. That, I can blame on my dad.
Before Sam, I had Barney (Rat Terrier) and Opie (Golden Retriever/Lab). Yes, both were named from the Andy Griffith Show. I also used to have a cat named Otis. I always figured that if I got a bird, it would be named Aunt Bea. My next female dog will be named Thelma Lou. Would you expect anything different?
Opie and Barney both lived beyond their life expectancy and I miss them to this day. When Barney finally passed a few years ago, I decided I wanted a lab, preferably a chocolate lab. As it turned out, my brother in Rapid City had a friend whose parents had a young lab that they had to find a home for. This was Sam, who had the bad habit of not knowing the difference between work and play on a big cattle ranch. He would get in the middle of the bulls.
Visiting my family at Christmas, I saw Sam and immediately knew that I would take him. I wanted to start again with a puppy and Sam was about 20 months at the time. Close enough, I thought.
Sam also had a previous owner, a middle-aged lady who decided he was too much for him to handle. He then went to the cattle ranch. As could be expected, Sam by now had a few issues with abandonment. It didn't take long for him to latch on to me. And I mean latch. I walk to the bathroom, Sam is behind me. I walk to the basement, Sam is behind me. I walk to the kitchen, Sam is behind me. I move while sitting on the couch, Sam readies himself to follow me.
Teresa's favorite phrase, is "Don't worry Sam, Rich is not going to jump out the window and leave you."
Oh, by the way, when I first got Sam, it was just a couple of weeks after I first met Teresa. I called her while in South Dakota and told her I was bringing back a dog. Little did she know what she was getting into.
When we came back to Laramie, I lived in an apartment (that allowed pets). I got a metal cage kennel for when I was at work. I'd put him in before I went to work and when I came home, he was out. The door was still latched shut. I actually thought my neighbor was letting Sam out.
No, Sam could get out by himself without unlatching the door. As it turned out, even though he was about 80 pounds and had a nice-sized head, he was able to squeeze himself out of the cage (it was a six-piece cage that all latched together). If you looked at the area that he pushed himself out of, the hole was probably five inches deep. I kid you not.
At first, with his abandonment issues, Sam got into everything. One night he chewed on all of my fishing poles, including my late father's fly-fishing reel. Sam would carry all of the dirty dishes out of the sink and scatter them in the living room. He even chewed on the VCR.
He did this once while I was on a business trip to Las Vegas. Teresa would go several times a day to check on him, feed and water him. At first she was afraid to tell me what was happening. I think to this day, that experience traumatized her.
Well, I eventually married Teresa and moved into her home. I decided to buy an outdoor kennel for the back yard -- an eight-foot high kennel. Sam still could get out. He would jump as high as he could and catch his paws on the chain-link, then climb to the top and jump out. I kid you not. My neighbor saw him do it.
Of course, he jumped the back-yard fence and roamed the neighborhood. Did you ever try to find a black lab at night? It's not happening.
This, of course, is in the first year or so that I had him.
Sam doesn't get out or chew on things any more, but like any good lab, he has to have something in his mouth at all times. He panics when we he can't find something. It doesn't mater what it is. It could be a sock, a shoe, a newspaper, a pen, the TV remote control. When we can't find the remote, we go to the back yard and look. It's often there.
Sam once grabbed a shovel and tried to go outside through a regular door in the garage. Labs are lovable, but not always the smartest dog. He actually looked surprised when the shovel stopped him running full speed into a brick wall. At least he didn't pick it up and try it again.
Oh yeah, this now 100-pound dog goes in and out of the house by squeezing through a small doggy-door (10 inches wide, 16 inches deep) that Teresa had put in for her pug, Otis (she named him Otis long before she met me).
Sam still has a bad habit of getting into the garbage. Evidently, no mater how much dog food he eats, which is a lot, he likes human food better. He steals food from the kitchen counter if we aren't careful. He'll take a loaf of bread outside and eat it. I wonder why he is putting on weight?Unfortunately, I can't leave Sam alone when we go on a trip where we can't take him in the car (flying). He has to be kenneled. To this day, I feel horrible after I drop him off. I often wonder what he thinks. Does he think I am leaving him for good this time? Is he thinking, "It's happening again." I always want to call the kennel when I'm gone to make sure he is OK. But I don't.
We just came back from a nearly week-long trip to California early Saturday morning and we couldn't pick him up until late Sunday afternoon (between 5-5:30 p.m.). I was at work, running the board for the Broncos-Chargers game on the radio, so Teresa and Cassie had to go get him. He was wound up, to say the least. When they got home, he searched the house for me for hours.
I was finally able to take him for his daily run behind Indian Paintbrush Elementary School at about 2 p.m. on Monday. It was his first run in a week. I've learned that my only real purpose in life is to take him for runs. We can't actually say run in our house, as he explodes with excitement. Sam's tail is considered a lethal weapon in 38 states. We have to spell it out like, "I'm taking Sam for a r-u-n." I think he is figuring that out as well.
I guess I'm too late to make millions off of my book. Marley & Me has been a bestseller for years. Maybe I'll make a movie. I know, how about Sam & Me?
What? Marley & Me was just released as a movie on Christmas, starring Owen Wilson and Jennifer Aniston? It's the No. 1 movie in America?
Oh well. I still love my Sam. This blog will have to do.
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