Sammy. The Samster, died this week. He was a great little doggie. I always thought he looked like a scruffy 3 legged Terrier. But his family thought he was the best looking dog around. Ya, okay, I admit it. He was cute enough. And he had 4 legs. But, come on. You can’t compare his looks to my two Italian Greyhounds, Gina and Tony. Ok ok, Sammy was a riot, a funny, zany presence at holidays. Always running around in circles driving Gina and Tony crazy. Even though there were times when he looked deranged, Sammy was a really smart dog. Way smarter than Gina and Tony. Yes, Sammy was smart and had quite the personality. But Gina and Tony had the looks.

All three, and all loved dogs are great in their own way. They have special places in our hearts for different reasons. And, like all great dogs, they lived for us. God put them on earth to be one with us, to be part of our families. They live to be near us, to fetch the ball and the stick, to make us laugh even when we want to cry. And when the day is ending, to cuddle with us on the couch. They feel safe there, touching us. And we do too. Those last moments of the evening, stroking them, gives us a sense that we got through one more day, that everything is ok, maybe just for that day.

I’ve loved dogs all my life, from Rin Tin Tin to Lassie, from My Dog Skip to the War Dogs. Toby, in the movie Used Cars. What a dog! But because of my asthma, I couldn’t have one. But then I did. First Gina, then Tony. I’d look into Gina’s eyes and I knew that we had a special bond. I knew she trusted me more than anyone. Actually, she didn’t have that great of a personality. She was royalty, a high strung diva. But all beautiful ladies are. She looked like Audrey Hepburn, with her graceful long neck. My beauty passed two years ago.

Tony on the other hand was a handsome burly boy. He didn’t really look like a miniature greyhound. Too heavy. He looked like a cross between a beagle, a dachshund, and a middle linebacker. Hey, he wasn’t fat, he was husky, and tough. He would take on any dog no matter how big. Last year, a few days before he died, he sat contentedly on my lap while I stroked him. He never sat still like that on anyone’s lap. But he was old and tired. He knew.
For some reason, they know and we don’t. Maybe we just don’t want to face the reality that we’re going to always outlive them, because they give us so much. They just don’t outlive us. They break our hearts.