We named him Samwise Gamgee

The simple truth is I don’t write well enough to pay tribute to the friend I lost today. I wish I was. He was deserving of a elegant tribute.

He was scared of his own shadow. Shortly after he started living with us, I realized just how sensitive he was when we had a visitor. She had placed her purse on the dinning room table, close to the edge, close enough that part of it jutted over the edge. Sam rounded the corner from the living room to the dinning room to see the purse precariously balanced, he jumped at the sight of something leaning over his world.

He also had a hard time with narrow spaces, including doorways. It’s tough when your dog is scared of the doorway, the space between couches and the hallway. Maybe he’d been outside mostly before he came to live with us. We were going to make him an inside dog since when he was outside, it was never long before he’d be barking to come back in. There would be the pause once the door opened, he’d glance nervously inside then dart in once he felt it was sufficiently safe. More than once he’d abort his attempt to cross the threshold, if there was a movement, a sound or something out of place just inside.

We named him Samwise Gamgee after Frodo’s loyal but very cautious companion. He loved to lounge on his pillow, an oversized dog bed we bought him on the way home from his adoption last September. But even better than his bed was the chance to lounge on the couch. Although, we’d allow him on special occasions he knew it was a guilty pleasure. Dogs somehow just know when they’re getting away with something out of the ordinary, they grin sheepishly and look the other way as if we won’t see them.

For all his jumps and starts with his surroundings, he was never nervous or flinched when you snuck up behind him and put a hand on his haunches. Most dogs will flinch at least a little, and if treated especially bad, some will swing round and bite at you. Not Samwise, he was nonplussed by a surprise touch from behind.

He was especially quirky but we loved him. He was soft as a puppy at four years old. He loved his ears scratched. He was just beginning to get his grey chin too. We thought we’d have a long number of years to help him overcome his fears of purses on tables and those pesky doorways. Then Samwise lost his appetite one morning.

We didn’t think much of it. It was just after the holidays and he’d been getting extra treats. But it never picked up again. Just last night I realized that he’d stop laying down all together. He’d been on his feet for going on two days straight. This morning his breath became so labored it made us cringe. My sweetheart had been up with him part of the night, I got up to be with him at 3:30 and kept encouraging him.

We took him to the vet. I made my girlfriend go with me. Last time I’d gone, it was with her dog and they’d given me very bad news, I didn’t want to go through that again alone.

Once they saw his symptoms, they rushed him in.

Then they rushed us into a room.

There was a tumor on his spleen.

We cried.

The chances he’d survive an operation were less than slim.

An assistant rushed into the room for the Vet, “He’s beginning to crash.”

We cried.

We finally decided to let Sam sleep. It had been at least 36 hours since he’d last slept. We said goodbye and he was gone.

The simple truth is I don’t write well enough to pay tribute to the friend I lost today. I wish I was. He was deserving of a elegant tribute.