When we first met her, Sammy was a six year old rescued Rottweiler in need of a permanent home. The kind of dog that, on paper, maybe not that many people would feel safe about bringing in to meet their kids and other pets.
And in that case? Their loss. Because Samantha was easily the sweetest, best natured, most kind and patient dog I have ever known.
She never gave me one moment's worry. I knew that she would tolerate every kind of toddler hugging and grabbing and riding and climbing. That FF could stretch out and lay on her like a pillow (and often did). That no matter how wildly the children around her were acting- she would always keep her cool. She was a nearly perfect dog.
I am so grateful that Sammy was the dog that introduced my daughter to dogs. I know that even if FF doesn't remember Sammy over time, my daughter will always be comfortable around dogs, know them as loveable beings, because of the first year home she spent with this trustworthy good friend with such a soft, great heart.
Spike will always remember Sammy. Down the line she'll be in his dreams as the dog who curled up on his bed, affectionately leaned against him, ate his scraps under the table, sprawled out in the hammock with him, showed him that the best kind of dog is all about love.
And I will remember her as my constant companion and shadow. The dog I could let off leash to run alongside me in the forest, knowing that one word from me would bring her back to my side. The dog that followed me from room to room, leaned against my legs, placed her beautiful head under the palm of my hand. The dog that I never worried about. The dog who I always introduced by saying, as she rushed up to greet some new person, "Don't worry, she's totally friendly!"
Sweet, sweet girl with your immeasurably great and loyal heart.
We were so lucky to have you.
And we will miss you so much.
Thank you for being the best dog.
