Since or Little Sam crossed the rainbow bridge, we've been a one dog family. Rescue pet sites tugged at our hearts, but we weren't ready to move on yet. You can't replace a dog like Little Sam, and it hurt to think about trying. Jack and I talked about the kind of dog we wanted if we adoped again, and with a plan in mind, we set off to the shelter. A little female Pappillion needed a home. She was old enough to be calm and easy to live with, and young enough that we would have several years with her.
Half way down the sad stretch of cages filled with temptation, on the way to the little girl that fit our needs and lived up to the plan, an obnoxious, odd looking little pup insisted on getting our attention. That's a far as we got. We took him for a test walk, but by the time we got the leash on him, he was ours. Weird how that happens.
We called him Lucas at first. Who knows why, that's just the name that popped up when we talked to him. But, perhaps we were just too accustomed to calling our second dog Sam. When our extended family met him about a week later, the name stuck. He is now Sammy.
What a strange little guy he is. With a face that is somewhere between a Rotweiler and a Chihuahua, and yellow green eyes, his pedigree is definitely a mix of many breeds. He's long like a daschund, short, high energy, and little like a toy breed. He's around 8 months old now and has lived on the street for much of his life. This has made him wary, aware of every sound. He hides part of his food at every meal, so we have to watch him to prevent piles of food behind furniture. We're amazed at his intelligence. He has learned all the necessary commands and is already potty trained. Buck has decided to keep him, and is teaching him the rules about barking at the birds trespassing on their backyard.
Little Sam would be proud of his namesake. What do you think of our new furry kid?
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