My daughter rescued Sammy as a puppy. She assured us that he was a Chihuahua, but it was
obvious to everyone that he was not. He
grew to be a medium small dog. He was a
funny looking little guy with a long body, short legs, and a lab looking head
and coat. He was no show dog but we
loved him dearly. He spent the last four
or five years of his life here with us on the farm, which he greatly enjoyed. He had the gentlest disposition and the most
soulful brown eyes that you have ever seen.
He alternately terrified or was terrified by our cat, depending on his
mood that day. He was a fierce protector
of his home, but he didn’t like guns and he was terrified of thunder. When a storm came it was into the house and
under the bed. He would be waiting for
me outside the kitchen door every morning so he could have a special treat, and
he, in company with our Catahoula, followed me around the farm all day so we
could keep each other company. Sammy
passed away last Saturday from congestive heart failure at the age of
eleven. I cried like a baby when he
didn’t come for his morning treat and I found him laying in the front yard. He was a good little dog with a gentle
soul. Run and play in heaven little
buddy. I love you, and I will miss you.
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