Farewell Sam

A photo of Sam, our beloved canine companion of 12 years.

I’ve dreaded this day, but I knew it would come eventually.

It’s been twelve and a half years that you spent with our little family. You were meant to be Hannah’s Christmas present that year, but in reality you have been a huge gift to me. Over all these years you have eagerly welcomed me home. As my work has given me opportunity to travel, I’ve always enjoyed returning home to the wiggles and excited barking that would greet me each and every time.

During some of the hardest years of my life you have been a constant companion, and a faithful friend. You arrived just as I entered into the most difficult part of my academic life. Juggling a career, doctoral studies and family, often got the better of me, but you were there to play catch in the yard, chase rabbits, and bark at passing neighbours. You kept me company marking papers, researching papers, and prepping for the next class.

You curled up next to me as I spent hours in front of a computer screen writing my doctoral thesis, you listened to podcasts, sermons, and far too many car shows. You were an intellectually informed dog having been trained early on in your life with C.S.Lewis on audiobooks as a way to keep you calm during the night. When it was time to watch baseball or hockey, you loved nothing more than to be with us cheering on our team. And when the word “walk” was even whispered you eagerly anticipated the stroll through the neighbourhood.

And during my darkest times - those days, weeks, and months - when the world was bleak and I didn’t have anything left to offer, you keep your nose buried in my lap. You taught me the combined gifts of silence and presence. It is often our greatest need, and yet the most difficult for us humans to give. 

Through all these years you never cared whether my theology was correct, nor scolded me when I dropped an F-bomb or two. (Ok - maybe more than that). You listened to my stories, eavesdropped on many a Zoom call, and never once broke confidentiality. It was as if you were sent to show me what true welcome, acceptance, and love should look like.

You were more than just my dog, you were embedded in our family. You annoyed us at times, made us laugh at your antics, and made sure that our home was always covered in fine white dog-hair. Being a part of our lives kept us regulated. Habits were formed around your schedule that we will have a hard time breaking.

You provided us with plenty of laughs. You’ve eaten a dozen kinder surprise eggs, an entire chocolate bunny, half a ham, weed gummies, ankle socks by the dozen, and a whole pile of garbage that is just down-right disgusting. You learned the hard way that you can’t run through a chain link fence and that hardwood floors are tricky. You never turned down peanut butter or cheese, and knew your role when something was accidentally spilled on the floor. 

So it’s good-bye my friend. Thanks for being part of my journey and our family. You will be missed.