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| - WARNING: This review might be a little bit on the sappy side.
When I was a little girl my parents got me my first dog, Oreo. She was a yappy-ass cockapoo who didn't like most people. (That is with exception to our immediate family, all of whom she loved.) Oreo once jumped through the screen door and bit my brother Mike's friend Jamie in the man-parts. Thankfully, due to durable clothing, Oreo didn't break the skin and Jamie, who was only 11 or 12 at the time, sustained no permanent damage that I know of. Despite her bitchy and occasionally violent attitude, Oreo was a beloved family pet.
We got Oreo as a puppy when I was seven. Around 1994 she started to show signs of aging: First going deaf, then blind, then developing kidney problems a couple of years after that. She wasn't ever in pain (our vet assured us) and she hung on for a while until in 1997 she died peacefully one morning on my parent's bed as they sat there and petted her.
We knew that she was not much longer for the world; and, in fact my Mom had called me the previous weekend and told me that if I wanted to be able to say goodbye to her that I'd better come home as soon as possible to do so. Despite this, the death of a pet that you have had and loved your whole life is devastating. I remember that when my Mom called me to tell me that Oreo had passed that she started crying so hard that she had to pass the phone to my brother; who in turn was crying so hard that he had to pass the phone to the Sparkmeister; who despite his general sarcastic and cranky attitude was rather choked up, as well.
As a family we grieved Oreo deeply.
My parents didn't want to get another dog right away. And, in fact some time - maybe a year - went by before they even started thinking about it. My Mommaship says that she knew she was ready to get another dog when she started stopping strangers with dogs on the street to ask them if she could pet their dogs. :)
Anyhow.
Sometime in late 1998, a family friend, who works at Stow-Kent Animal Hospital called my Mom and Dad to "encourage" them to come and meet a dog who had been found abandoned on the side of the road and brought to the shelter.
They did and instantly fell in love with him. They brought him home and my brother Matt (who was indignant that he had been too young to have a hand in naming Oreo - who I named as such because she was black with a white bib) named that dog Sammy Sosa Padak. (We are a Cubs family, after all.)
http://static.px.yelp.com/photo/axdZbuZlOqpsm8WIvxKCdg/l
Our family has had Sammy for almost ten years now and I have to say that he is the best dog on the face of the planet. Seriously he is. And, I cannot understand how ANYONE would dump this sweet, loyal, snuggly, smart puppy on the side of the road.
Their loss, our gain, I suppose.
Well, really Sammy's gain - dogs who are lucky enough to be adopted by our family kinda win the doggie lottery.
Sammy kills me. He is afraid of thunder storms and the vacuum cleaner and will come cower in my bedroom whenever one of those things is present. He thumps his tail whenever one of us walks through the room; and, despite his tendency to not lick people he always licks my face whenever I come into the house. When my Mom leaves to pick me up at the airport she tells him "I'm going to get your Katie" and when we return he barks at her (per normal) and then when he sees me he makes this excited yelping noise and practically knocks me down on the floor so he can climb into my lap and lick me. When I leave my parents have said that he wanders into my room and looks for me, all sad n' forlorn. He pouts when anyone takes suitcases out. Seriously, the reason I've avoided getting a dog of my own is because I just really don't think I could ever find a dog I love as much as I love Sammy.
Over the years Stow-Kent Animal Hospital has cared for our family pets, including my former cat Harry (who I had to give to a friend when I developed a violent allergy to him that resulted in an asthma attack which nearly killed me) with kindness and skill which every vet should have. Not to mention they brought us our best pet ever. Whom I love beyond reason and have been privileged to spend all summer with, where normally I only get to see him twice a year.
Thank you, Stow-Kent Animal Hospital.
*Incidentally, the Sparkmeister buried Oreo underneath a big oak tree in our backyard and some flowers grow there. Every once in a while Sammy goes and pees on it, like he's paying tribute to the dog who came before him.
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