Sam (Samantha Jean) arrived in my life one afternoon in September, 1978. My father was temporarily back in our lives - driving from our mobile home in Keithville, LA to Texarkana, TX every other day or so to get yet another used paperback book store up and running. The Friday before, my Mother and I had attended her sister's funeral in Readhimer, LA. Daddy was nowhere to be found during that ordeal. Monday, however, in his inimitable style, he arrived in the driveway while Mother was at work with a box and a very young German Shepherd puppy. The intended purpose was to "console" mother on her loss. The result was VERY different than that. The arrival time was WELL planned. I, generally, did not get along very well with the long-coated Chihuahua (Dinky) that he had delivered in similar fashion several years before. As a matter of fact, Dinky and I mostly avoided one another.

The puppy's arrival while Mother was at work was to make sure that I formed a typical 13-year-old's attachment to it. By the time mother got home at 5:30, I was attached.The negotiations began almost immediately. Mother's opening line was "GET IT OUT!" "What the HELL were you thinking!?"… My opening line … was to cry.

The first 6 months or so I worked REALLY hard to justify keeping Sam in the trailer. She spent her days (while I was at school) in the second bathroom. I came home every day and scrubbed the floor and cleaned up whatever other messes she had managed to create that day. Every day she spent in the house was another battle won. The final straw unfortunately, was Sam's decision to eat the linoleum in that bathroom… There was no amount of scrubbing I could do to cover that up. The cabinets tasted pretty good to her as well.

My negotiations style was improving. I managed to keep Sam with the promise that I would buy the chain and stake to keep her outside until the fence was built. Those were not good months for Sam. The collar we had her on was TOTALLY inappropriate for a dog staked outside and she became quite the little escape artist. One chilly day, she disappeared early in the day and could not be found. Later that evening, she re-appeared with much PRIDE dragging behind her 50lb self a hind quarter from a very freshly skinned deer.

As time went on, my life took a bit of a turn. I had been spending 3 - 4 days a week at the local ice rink preparing for competition at a basic level. Spring of 1979 came around and I was supposed to travel to Dallas for my second competition. About 3 weeks before the competition I began losing energy and feeling like I might be coming down with something akin to a mild flu. I kept practicing up until the week before the competition but with less and less energy. The doctor (Dr. Crow) was consulted repeatedly and he repeatedly suggested that it was a mild case of mononucleosis. His advice was to continue practicing and to stay a safe distance from other skaters. Well… up until the morning of the competition I was told I could still go, we would just drive to Dallas that morning and be there for the competition in the afternoon. I woke up Saturday morning with the worst RED RASH you would ever want to see on a child. The hospital was my destination instead of I-20 to Dallas. Diagnosis: worst case of measles the hospital had ever seen.

By the time I recuperated from the Measles (3 weeks later), the ice rink had closed for annual maintenance. 3 weeks later, the owner announced that it would not re-open. I was devastated. It was Summer and the only activity I had any interest in for 2 years had been skating. I hibernated in the trailer all Summer, eating and getting more withdrawn.

By Fall, Mother was REALLY worried.I'm not sure what the real motivation was, but Mother's suggestion that I take Sam to 4-H obedience class was one that I welcomed whole-heartedly. She said it was to get control of "that monster," but I suspect it was REALLY to get control of THIS (me) monster.

This would be the fortuitous beginning of a long and mostly happy hobby of training and showing Sam and other of her canine brethren. Sam turned out to be a VERY trainable animal. Oftentimes too smart for her or my own good. When she learned, she learned it well and made me look good as a result. We first competed later that Fall and I was HOOKED!

Sam made it easy and we were very successful. I got involved in teaching classes the next year and began taking advanced classes from Jonathan Franklin at Red River Obedience Training Club that next Fall. As with many things that I have done in my life, I gave this hobby EVERYthing. I became active in several clubs (Red River Obedience Training Club, The German Shepherd Dog Club of Shreveport, Shreveport Kennel Club,etc.) I served several terms as President and Training Director at Red River and worked in other capacities in the other clubs. These were not minor accomplishments for a teenager amongst the adults that typically run these organizations.

Travelling to dog shows with a crazy cast of characters that I remember fondly to this day became my life. School and other distractions were merely that, distractions. I got good grades despite my busy calendar and I made a FEW friends my own age. In the meantime, I was getting heavier and heavier. I didn't have any interest in dating and found plenty of companionship in 4-H. Carol and I spent more time together than she probably should have, but it meant that we could both go to a prom and senior party - win-win (sort of).

Sam was my entrée into this world of dog showing. When people saw how well we did, they assumed that I could work similar miracles with their problem canines. Some even paid me to do it… or at least paid my way to dog shows to have me show their dogs. I had a LOT of mothers in that environment. My own mother was rarely able to travel with me, but she knew I was in good hands. She used the time to study for her Masters Degree.

Graduating from high school and entering college slowed down my dog showing a little bit, but I was fortunate enough to work for one of my dog showing compatriots and she didn't think twice about letting me train her dogs at work. Once again, win-win. My current memory of my college years is dim. It seems like it must have rushed past, but I know a lot of stuff happened. The end result though is that I finished college, had a difficult time finding work and when I finally did, it involved a good deal of travel. For the first 15 months of that first job, I traveled so much I didn't bother to move out of my Mother's house. I was home on weekends and still felt like I had pets (though Mother was having to care for them).

The difficulty came when I took the transfer to St. Louis. It would be my first experience living without my four-legged-friends. Mother agreed to keep Sam and my other 2 dogs at the time. There was a brief period where she had to give up custody of the Border Terrier, but that was remedied when I moved to Nashville 6 months later.I was never in a position to have Sam live with me again. I worried that she would become too much for Mother to care for as Mother's health was never all that great, but they got along fine.

I knew that one day Sam would need for me to make the decision about whether or not her quality of life was good enough to go on. The call came in April of 1990. She was 13 and had been having difficulty controlling her bodily functions and it was getting more and more difficult for her to get up after laying down for a bit. Virginia Brookings (daughter of Jimmie and a veterinarian we had been using for several years) recommended that we put Sam out of her misery. I was living in Birmingham. I called in and requested the next week off and drove to Shreveport on a Friday afternoon.

Jimmie Brookings lived on 7 or 8 acres North of Shreveport and offered to let me bury Sam under a prominent Oak tree in her front yard. Virginia agreed to meet us at her Mom's house on a Saturday afternoon. Toby and I drove out first and prepared her resting place. Mother followed with Sam. We buried her on that day, April 27, 1990 with her favorite bed, bowl and collar.I needed the week off work. Sam had been a major part of my adolescence and had opened many doors for me. I missed her greatly.

As a part of the grieving process I wrote a letter to the members of the Red River Obedience Training Club that had known Sam and me over the years. I have never been any good at keeping track of sentimental things. I never thought my Mother was either. Sentiment wasn't an overwhelming theme of my childhood. I learned differently 5 years after Sam passed. On April 27, 1995, my Mother passed away. My brothers, sister and I found many surprises while cleaning out her possessions in preparation for the sale of the house. Among them were my high school diploma, college diploma, high school graduation invitations, prom announcements, etc. AND the letter to Red River OTC.

Realize I found the letter only 2 days after Mother passed away. I called Virginia Brookings at home and asked her if she remembered what happened 5 years ago that past Thursday. She thought for a moment and just before we both burst into tears… she said "I imagine that Sam was sitting waiting for her at the Pearly Gates."

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