The Sammy Saga Continues:

Hi, again, folks. I just wanted to let every one know that I haven't forgotten about you. I will be dutifully posting each Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. That way, I won't run out of things to say (...right, like that could ever happen) and I will still have time in my life for other things. So lets get on with it shall we?

Sammy the wonder dog: AKA Frolic:

My last "Sammy" post left off with her stuck in a cage that couldn't be opened by any one under 6 feet tall. I fell a good 6 inches short of that mark. But, I was determined to brighten her day and so I went and played with her through the wires, fed her goodies and gave her some personal attention.

Each week that I went into the kennels I found fewer and fewer of the "F" series of pups in the room. I had just assumed that they were being used for blood or bone marrow donation and would be returned, yet each week another one disappeared. The Coordinator finally informed me that the whole litter was being released for adoption. Any pups left over would be earmarked for continued studies, most likely terminal.

So far, all but one of the pups had been spoken for; Frolic.

Back at home, I casually mentioned the situation to my "then" boyfriend/roommate, who immediately responded with a resounding "NO". In fact, I think his "I told you so" is still pinging around the local escarpment and annoying the wildlife. I had expected this and knew very well that we had no business adopting a dog, let alone a hound cross that may be some what difficult to train. Hounds are not well known for their intelligence or obedience. I merely smiled, assuaged his fears by listing off all of the reasons we couldn't adopt a dog and then let the matter drop.

But I was haunted by her sweet face and feline tail. You see Frolic has the MOST expressive eyes and tail of any dog I have ever known. Her eyes are outlined with black, giving her a very seductive, Cleopatra-type of look. Her eyes emote happiness, fear and sadness with a drama that would put most of the silent stars to shame. Her tail acts as the back up to her eyes. Wagging furiously or curled, quiveringly, tight under her belly, there is no mistaking her moods.
There was a very real intelligence screaming out from her eyes that appealed to me.

I began a de-sensitization mission on Richard. I would casually mention how nice it would be to have company at home, security-wise, during the nights that he worked till 4am at the bars or describe the post surgical state of one of my terminal study walking dogs. Basically, I committed horrendous acts of guerrilla- guilt war fare upon my darling partner until he found himself asking after her.

After a week or two of this, Rich broke down from his "NO dog" stance to the infinitly more democratic "No hound dogs" position. I happily agreed with him. After all, who could possibly want an untrainable, barky, ugly little hound mutt? I kindly told him that the kennels had some lovely Border Collie mixes and Shepherd mixes that were infinitely more beautiful and trainable. The poor sucker agreed to meet them all provided he got the final say. Can you say " I win, I win, I win!!!!!" ?

The day Richie came in, I had several dogs ready for him to choose from. There was Tanis, a beautiful red Border Collie that looked just like Murray in the television show "Mad About You". I knew he would flip over her and brought her in first to get the excitement out of the way. Flip he did. Tanis was everything he was looking for in a pet, beauty, personality and obedience. He would have walked out right then and there with her if I hadn't reminded him of the other finalists waiting for their chance.

Next came Whisper. She was a lovely little gray Collie mix that was very quiet and shy. She would just stay glued to my knees and was to nervous to approach Richie or interact with him. As sweet as she was, she just didn't have the impact of Tanis.

Last of all I brought in Frolic. Rich stayed out of the room to watch the dog interacting with me before he came in. Frolic immediately began rummaging around the room following her Hound nose. She counter surfed and ignored me until she had completely checked out the space and determined that there were no treats left unattended. What a great first impression. I could tell by Richie's eyes that he was considerably underwhelmed. Then Frolic sauntered over to me, crowned me with her sweetest nose-poke-to-the-eyeball (signature Frolic move and sign of true love!) and snuggled into my lap as though she owned it. Richie came in at my beckoning. Frolic gave him love and nose pokes and Rich responded by sneezing and itching. "For the love of Mike" I was screaming in my head, "Could any thing else go wrong?" Which is about when she squatted on the floor and peed.

Sensing that Rich had reached maximum exposure, I smiled, hugged Frolic once more and returned her to the kennel (I had brought a step ladder from home to use to untie the door).
We went home to "discuss" the candidates.

It was a lively one sided discussion all the way home on the glorious merits of Tanis. It wasn't until late that night that I began my counter arguments. I proceeded to agree with every thing he said, because Tanis really was a cool dog and would certainly fit into our lifestyle really well. It was just a shame that she was being held back because one of the vet students was still deciding whether or not to adopt her. Although, I was sure we could both agree that life on a horse farm would be far more appropriate for Tanis than the urban apartment lifestyle we were planning.

I mentioned that Whisper was one of the walker's darlings and that she was sure to be adopted quickly with her quiet nature and beautiful colourings. I just, really, felt badly for Frolic. She was such an ugly, untrained, little thing she didn't have a hope in hell. Who would adopt a dog that had demonstrated every bad doggy habit in the book in a 15 minute look see?

.....Now, here, is where that one psychology course in University has come in really handy. You see, Rich and I were both closet geeks. We were the type of people who understood the position of the classic underdog (please forgive me, but I had to use the word atleast once). Of all people, Rich would not be able to pass judgement on "one of his own!!!"

I let the information marinate for a day or two, mentioned that Whisper had been adopted and Tanis was almost certain to be gone but that Frolic still wasn't adopted nor getting walked by any one but me. I let him come to me.

Three days after our first look-see, Richie came to me in a real huff, he demanded to know why I bothered to show him all those other dogs when clearly my heart was set on the one. "Why had I told him it was his choice, when clearly I had already made the choice?" He wasn't actually angry with me, he was angry that he wanted Frolic, not because she was his choice of dog but because no one else did. I, naturally, apologized profusely and begged him to let us adopt her because she had no one else. Game, Set and Match.

Frolic came home with us that day and has been wreaking havok on our lives ever since. We decided to name her Sam because she wasn't a Frolic. She had a tougher core and alot more to offer than that namby pamby name allowed. Not to mention standing at the top of a hill and yelling "Frooooooollllliiiiiiiicccccc" at the top of my lungs was just something I coulsn't being myself to do. She never responded to Frolic any way. Sam's full name is actually Samiad, after the queerly ugly, wish granting, creature in the story Five Children and It by E. Nesbitt. It fits her to a "T"

There you have it, the auspicious beginnings of Sam the wonder dog. Her peculiar life took several bizarre turns once she arrived in our apartment, but those stories will need to wait for later.

Have a great day even if you are JUSTAMOM....'cause I know I am

Maggie