His Name Is Samson

By Terri Lacher

We could have bought a small yacht with what we spent on our dog and all the things he destroyed. Then again, how many yachts wait by the door all day for your return?
~John Grogan

A fuzzy little Golden Retriever arrived in our driveway one cold mid-December morning as I was taking the trash to the curb. He weaved in and around my ankles as I tried to shoo him away, and then he moved back a few feet, sat down and wagged his curly tail so hard it almost toppled him over. Soft brown eyes watched me, contemplating whether I was friend or foe, and then he inched his way toward me and sat on my stocking feet, looking up wistfully with what appeared to be his best smile. When I moved, he moved, as he began to follow me back up the drive.

I kept thinking he must have wandered off from his owners. Surely, they would be out searching for him. Scanning the surrounding streets and yards and seeing no one, I placed him in our backyard for safety. Someone would probably be coming to claim him during the day, but my fear of him bounding into the street was put at ease with him secured behind a fence. A cardboard box with an old rug made a perfect bed. And a bowl of fresh water would have to satisfy him until I could decide what to do with him.

Before leaving for work, I called my husband to let him know what I had done, just in case he came home for lunch before me and discovered a "surprise." We had been talking about getting a dog for weeks, but couldn't decide on a breed. The night before, I had shared how much fun owning a Retriever would be and what a wonderful and kind pet it would make.

"Hi, it's me. You will never believe what happened. Remember how we had talked about getting a dog and I said how much I loved Retrievers?"

"Yes, I remember" he said, with hesitation in his voice.

"Well," I began, "the cutest little golden Retriever puppy I've ever seen showed up on our front porch today! I'm sure he's lost and his owners are out looking for him right now, but if they don't come, can we keep him?"

Teasingly, he said, "You went and bought a puppy, didn't you?"

After much reassurance that the puppy really did magically appear from nowhere and that I would give him to his rightful owners as soon as they came for him, we hung up and I went on to work. I kept telling myself all the time not get too attached to this puppy and to not give him a name because he wasn't mine.

This precious little puppy had survived at least one night in the frigid cold December air before he found me. He was small, but he appeared to be very strong. Driving by our church it suddenly hit me, "His name is Samson!"

No one ever claimed Samson, and so Samson became our dog. It was surprising to learn just how much a free dog could cost. From vet bills to dog collars to leashes to toys, and many bags of food, this cute little eight-pound puppy had many needs. And he ate and ate and ate. It didn't take long for him to graduate from a small bag of puppy food to the extra large economy-size bag. Every time we thought that he was just too much to handle, he would sit, looking up with his soft brown eyes, and give us his best grin and melt out hearts.

One fact most Retriever owners don't share is that their loveable pets seem to live to dig. Samson dug foxholes all over the yard wherever he found a soft spot that would yield to his strong paws. Tunneling long wide holes with dirt flying everywhere, I guess that somehow he just couldn't figure out how to dig down. Our yard was a disaster.

He chewed up everything... from the wooden patio furniture, a freezer cord, outside computer lines and any and all greenery that stuck up from the grass. But, after the most mischievous behavior, he would lean into us, loving us, knowing that when all was said and done, we would reach down and stroke his fuzzy ears and forgive him.

Samson has lived up to his name. He is strong in so many ways, but easily distracted. After chasing a squirrel up a tree, he ran across an open pool of water before he realized it wasn't solid. We have learned to make him sit before opening the door when he wants to go outside, after he nearly knocked us over like bowling pins many times, rushing his huge body past us to go for a walk. He still thinks he is a lap dog, climbing on top of us whenever we sit down in the recliner. He's always at our feet anticipating every move we make and causing us to trip over his bulky torso. He's ready to play, and eagerly awaits our praise and a treat for every new thing he has learned from us.

But in reality he is the one who has taught us important lessons that we find ourselves using in our everyday lives. He does not judge us and only asks that we give him love and loyalty. We love and laugh at his antics, even when we are experiencing hardships in our own lives. He has taught us patience and gentleness. When he is outside and wants to come in, he will sit outside the window peering in. Have we forgotten him? I think he would wait for us forever. He wants to be close to us and he has given us companionship when we have needed it the most. We delight in watching him squeeze his sixty-five pounds underneath his favorite hiding spot, our living room coffee table. When we move, he moves. If we leave a room, he is right beside us, wagging his huge tail and sharing more love than we could have possibly imagined. How lucky we are that Samson found us on that cold winter morning. Our lives are so much richer for it.

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