Story With A Sad Ending
The story of Sammy, our strikingly handsome, 90 pound German Shepherd cross, will have a sad ending. The stories of all our loved pets are too short and inevitably end in sadness. Today we found another suspicious growth on Sammy’s inner front leg. In the fall of 2017, two malignant mast cell tumors were removed from Sammy. Testing in February 2018 found two new growths to be free of disease. A most welcome reprieve! But in late March of 2019 cancer was detected again. Today’s deflating discovery occurred as Sammy is scheduled to see an oncologist in two days. We are playing a morbid version of whack a mole.
Sammy’s story has a sad beginning, as well. There is scant information regarding Sammy’s early days. He was picked up as a stray at three months of age in June of 2008. His finders wanted to adopt him, according to Sonoma County Animal Services. After wending his way back to the shelter to serve a second stretch, Sammy was again adopted in October of 2010. Then, two days after Christmas 2011, the owners of the property where Sammy was living, found him neglected and abandoned, covered with fleas and ticks. Sammy’s “guardian” had taken off to the Caribbean for ten days.The property owners had a groomer dis-infest him and he was delivered to the Sonoma Humane Society for his third interval in a canine calaboose.
The property owners and two other employees worked out an arrangement for the owners to adopt Sammy, provide food, outside training and pay vet bills if the two would care for Sammy. In less than a month after Sammy’s third adoption, he was hit by a truck which resulted in his back right hip being dislocated. Shortly thereafter Sammy chased after a “wild animal” and damaged his hip such that he had to have a hip replacement.
A behavioral assessment from the Humane Society included the following statements. “His rude energy makes him a difficult adoption.” “There is a risk of him getting into (an) altercation with other dogs. Sammy is super strong . He goes after a dog like a bulldozer.” “...After being corrected three times (by another dog), Sammy responded by displaying that he was ready to fight. His weight (pushing 90 pounds) makes an altercation dicey.” “He is definitely a wild child.”
The property owners documented the following information. “Sammy is an extremely strong dog. Except with… (JK), Sammy does not obey commands and has not learned basic canine manners. Sammy has led a lonely life, fending for himself. He dug under fences in search of human companions on the ranch property. He used to run great distances to find those people who came to work for the day. He also goes crazy when he sees another dog. He starts to howl very, very loudly.” I would add that he would leap higher than one’s head and pirouette his 90 pounds about with a banshee shriek. I wondered why the hell am I in the dog training business?
Sammy’s profound separation issue included serious destruction as he gnawed the woodwork to attempt escape from the pool house he was then living in. He continued to find the chasing of wild animals great sport and perhaps a source of food. How often he participated in this pastime is not known, although I was told he had dispatched at least one skunk.
In September of 2017 Sammy was again in need of another home. We (or at least I) offered to care for Sammy until and immediately after his scheduled October surgery. A search for a home would then begin. We had earlier declined to keep Sammy for a number of reasons, one of which was his size. Our last dog,medium sized, had to be picked up and carried a good deal of the time. Being a person of the 1950 vintage, I figured I had one small dog left in me, and could not fathom carrying about an aging 90 pounder.
You don’t always get choices in such matters. In the early am of October 9th, 2017, one of the Northern California Wildfires could be seen cresting the ridge across our valley. We evacuated with Sammy and one of our two cats. (Later, we returned and found the second kitty). We were lucky to be housed by our very accommodating future in laws. Then the five of us were evacuated a second time to an equally hospitable present in law.. All told, we spent nine days away from home (we were very fortunate) in small bedrooms with two humans, Sammy (the 90 pounder) and two cats. (One of the cats is black and white). All went well.
At some point during the second evacuation I went to a volunteer center to offer help. Sammy accompanied me. The center had enough volunteers so we bought some food to distribute to whomever we found in downtown Santa Rosa who could use it. We did find some folks and returned to get more supplies only to find that the car had been stolen. Sammy and I walked several blocks to the police station where we spent considerable time filing a police report as dozens and dozens of officers streamed in and out on fire business. Sammy was on his best behavior and admired by a few of the officers. (The car was recovered three weeks later, abandoned in a downtown parking lot, collecting rainwater through windows left open and half a dozen parking tickets ).
Later, towards the end of October, 2017, Sammy had the two mast cell growths removed. He convalesced quickly and by the beginning of 2018 we (read, I, with a number of cautions and caveats) decided to offer Sammy a home. Then began a long period where I was promoted to a strict upper management position. Our house is small and the cats had to cross paths with Sammy to their litter box and food bowl. Sammy was kept on leash at all times in the house until he showed absolutely no interest in moving cats, not even tracking their movements with a twitch of his huge ears. He can now be left alone indoors with the cats, although he is still monitored in the yard.
Sammy’s behavior has advanced to the point where he is calm enough to help clients’ dogs work through their reactivity issues. He calmly executes approaches and passbys, although he is a bit of a mercenary- expecting and earning union wages. He loves to promenade around Spring Lake Park in Santa Rosa. One late spring day on our walk we came across a woman with a small dog afraid to proceed passed a number of hostile Canada geese blocking the path. The geese were protecting their newly hatched chicks by hissing profanities with undulating necks and rushing towards and threatening passers by. I told the woman to get behind and follow Sammy. As we proceeded, the sea of feathers parted. The geese continued their hissing fit but from a more discreet distance. Sammy looked neither left or right, seemingly oblivious to his act of chivalry.
Sammy has aged much better than I have. People marvel that he is well over eleven- taking him to be between four and six years of age. I have been sensitive to aging since at a youthful 45, a restaurant person asked if I wanted the senior discount. Sammy has progressed to where, on occasion, I take him to serve as a therapy dog at a really old, old folks home. As he lopes in with a big grin on his face, I have been asked if I will be attending such and such event that evening at the facility. Yikes! I picture myself arriving using a walker or Sammy as a balance dog as I visit my mother in law.
Sammy’s story will have a sad ending. But in the meanwhile Sammy has not lost a step. He does not give a frankly dear damn about all the fuss. He still loads enthusiastically into the car without slowing or hesitation. He can still discern the difference between a squirrel (ears piqued) and a bird (ears at ease) in the bush .He can hear a kibble drop from across the house and appear with preternatural swiftness. He is tolerant of all the attention from veterinarians, but has lost tolerance for their aspirations with pointy needles. There are still many good times yet to come- the tithing of tidbits on car rides, adventures in the park to be had, just being smack in the middle of things. The great news is that Sammy’s story does not end here, when these words run out.