Even though its been over five years, I remember very clearly the day Sammy came into our shelter. A little boy walked in holding this 20 lb white fluffball in his arms. He was followed by his brother and his mom.
“They just left him out in the yard all day,” the mother said with tears in his eyes. “This dog is the sweetest thing. Only a year old and he is out in the elements 24 hours a day with no companionship, no shelter.” She was talking about Sammy’s previous owners who no longer wanted Sammy because he wasn’t a “tea-cup” size.
Bobbi was at the shelter at the time and agreed to take Sammy in to find him a better home, a home that he deserved. I remember the little boy put Sammy down in the runs and Sammy ran around in happiness, tail wagging. I remember thinking, this dog shouldn’t be hard to find a home for. He was adorable, very friendly and young.
Sadly a couple days later, Sammy fell sick and had to be taken to the vet. He was kept there for five days on IV fluids. After the five days, he was well enough to leave the vet, but shouldn’t go back to the shelter where recovery is difficult for sick animals. Plus there is a risk of spreading the disease.
Bobbi called me and asked me if I would be able to foster Sammy. I didn’t have any other animals at the time. I had recently lost my beloved pit mix Sox a couple of months before.
When I brought Sammy home, he was coughing a lot. He didn’t have much energy and just wanted to rest. Bobbi gave me a little blue sweater for him to wear to keep him warm when I had to take him out. He had a bit of an appetite and ate the chicken that we made for him. I made a bed for him in each room so he would have some place to rest and would never have to be alone. When I worked on the computer, he rested under the desk surrounded by pillows and blankets.
Sammy had to be nebulized three times a day to help break up the phlegm so he could cough it up and get it out of his system. I had to mix the medicine with sterile water and place is in a humidifier like machine that would turn it into a mist for Sammy to breathe in. He gave me no problem with it. He was so good.
At night Sammy would sleep in his own bed next to mine. My heart would ache as I listened to him cough all night. He would get up and turn circles, trying to get comfortable. I usually spent the night on the floor next to him, petting him, trying to help him relax so he could get some rest. Nights seemed to be particularly difficult for him.
There were times when Sammy seemed to be doing better and he would walk around a bit. But after a couple of days he took a turn for the worse. He stopped eating all together and wouldn’t take his pills even in the chicken. We brought him to Dr Baum in Lynbrook where he had to be hospitalized.
This is when we learned that Sammy had distemper. There was a 50% chance that he would make it. There was no cure for distemper. It’s a disease that affects the nervous system. We could treat the symptoms and pray. Even with this devastating news, I still had hope. I believed that Sammy would make it.
Every morning I would call Dr Baum and he woud get on the phone with me and tell me about Sammy’s progress, whether Sammy got up today, whether he was eating, if the temperature went up or down. Then around noon I would drive to the hospital for visiting hour. I would always bring Sammy some chicken to eat. When they carried Sammy out to see me, Sammy’s tail would wag in happiness. “Its good for you to come and visit everyday,” Dr Baum said. “It helps keep his spirits up.” Dr Baum said that Sammy was a fighter and that Sammy wanted to live. This was a good sign. I held him in my arms everyday for an hour, feeding him chicken and petting him till it was time for me to go. When they took Sammy back I kissed him and told him I would see him tomorrow. It broke my heart to leave him everyday but I knew it was for the best.
After about a week in the hospital, the Dr said Sammy could come home. His fever was down and he was eating. I was delighted. Dr Baum said to call him everyday to tell him how Sammy was doing.
I remember carrying Sammy from the hospital to the car and I drove with him curled up in the front seat wrapped in a fuzzy leopard print blanket. I was so sure that Sammy would get better soon.
I don’t remember how many days Sammy was home before he started to twitch. It wasn’t long though, maybe only 24 hours. His head started to twitch and he made a clicking sound. I called Dr Baum and he was silent for a moment. “This is not good news. It means it has started to affect the brain.” It was then that Sammy stopped eating again and didn’t want to do much but lie on my lap and try to sleep.
We took him to a specialist in the city. I remember holding Sammy on my lap in the waiting room and tears were streaming down my face. It was then the reality began to settle in. Sammy may not make it.
We had to leave him there. They were going to keep him in quarantine since he was contagious to other animals. I remember going home with such an empty feeling.
The next evening, they called to tell me Sammy had passed. I was at work at the time. When I came home, I just went to his bed- one of the many we had made from him around the house and cried. I was sad but I was also angry. It wasn’t fair. Sammy was only a year and a half. He had been in a loving home for only a short time and in that short time he was too sick to enjoy it.
We had a service for Sammy the next day at Bide-a-Wee in Wantaugh. We buried him next to my pit bull Sox. Many volunteers came to the service for Sammy. Its amazing how many lives he touched. How many people came to love him in the short time he was with us.
I have a couple of photographs of Sammy. My favorite is this one of him lying on our couch in his blue sweater. This was the first day we fostered him. We had just come in from outside. He just was so easy going, always happy to be with us no matter how bad he felt. He was loving, appreciative, happy even in his sickest days.
I still think about Sammy often and am getting teary eyed as I write this. I know he is at the rainbow bridge, perhaps with Sox waiting. He is healthy and happy as he was always happy, running and playing, enjoying all the things he was deprived of on Earth.
I love you, Sammy. Till we meet again…
