I shall attempt to write this without breaking into another sobbing jag . . . .
The past three days have been filled with touching, quiet, meaningful — and truly moving — acts of kindness.
Some years ago, I wrote a letter to someone whose dog has died. That dog, Rufus, had lived publicly for more than a decade in a writer’s regular newspaper column. When the dog died, thousands mourned him.
I wrote at that time “He was, by extension, our dog too.”
Samson was clearly a like canine for many. I know that my colleagues at school, and my students, enjoyed seeing him and loving on him during his at-first frequent, and more recently less frequent visits to campus. I also know that many people I don’t often see knew Sam through this blog. He had become, in some way, a pet for many.
The outpouring of support for me, and of love for the both of us, has truly given me strength to deal with the fraught emotion and the sadness. I’m so very grateful to so many individuals, and to the universal good.
A message last evening reminded me that I gave Sam the ultimate loving last gift — freedom from his infirmities, and a hug and whispered words of love until his last breath. I needed that reminder.
Sam now lives in memory (and plenty of photos). He filled many hearts. And I think we filled his.
I’m going to close this chapter on blog (at least I think I’m going to), because the time is right for me to grieve, but to keep moving as well.
But first, some parting photos of my sweet and much-loved companion: