Wednesday, May 6, 2009

In Memory of Sammy

Sammy Sosa Chowderhead, formerly Suzie Q Von Crown, was born May 6, 1993 to sire Tobias Xavier II and dam Thompson’s Stormy Weather of Grapevine, Texas. She lived in Texas with her family for several years before moving to the Pacific Northwest. Upon the installation of white carpeting, Sammy became an “outside dog,” a situation which did not suit her. Recognizing this, a vigilant neighbor suggested a better home for Sammy.

Sammy was adopted by Rebecca and Andy in November, 1998. In her new home she made friends (as best she could) with resident cat Ramon. Sammy enjoyed playing with her stuffed toys – carrot, elephant, and an assortment of hippos – and liked to gather her “babies” (i.e. socks) in a pile in the backyard. In addition to walks around the neighborhood, Sammy enjoyed trips to the beach, running after birds, and rides in the car. Sammy loved food, but would to ask permission for a loitering sandwich or waffle on the kitchen counter before gobbling it up.

Sammy was a fierce watchdog and simultaneous tail-wagger, who would bark non-stop upon the arrival of a guest, and then be ready to go home with them 10 minutes later. She defended her family, even Ramon, but would yield to the slightest hint of assertion. For example, if someone, say Ramon, wanted her beef rib bone, Sammy would immediately acquiesce.

Sammy kept a brave face through many trials over the years: ACL surgery, several mastectomies, a severe bacterial infection, and more recently seizures. Throughout it all, she was a source of joy and comfort for her family – especially Rebecca, Ray, August, Andy, Grammy, and when convenient T-ko and Ramon. She will be dearly missed.

Please sign the memorial guestbook (i.e. comments).


e said...

I will miss her barking at me when I walk through the door. She will be missed!

Ray said...

I'll miss her sad, begging look everytime I was cooking. I don't know how many times I gave in and let her taste things.

Anonymous said...

Goodbye Sammie! It won't be the same visiting the H-P family with only one pet in residence. You will be missed.

Sorry to Becca, Ray and August for your loss. Take comfort knowing Lupe and Sammie are running freely in heaven like the young pups they used to be.

Natasha said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Natasha said...

I remember the day you got Sammy. You came over to our house, which then became your house, in Shoreline. I loved her sweet personality and hyper tail. Yes, Sammy is also with Henry, telling stories of their crazy shared neighbor Diane with the chickens and unlucky dogs. I know you will miss her dearly. I am so sorry.

miss d said...

I'm so sorry to hear about Sammy. Definitely will be missed even by me, even though I didn't come by much. You just had to love her and her wagging little tail, and I certainly did.

Love to you, Ray and August.

Sheila said...

O Sammy, your bark pierced my ears, but your curly black hair and doe eyes won my heart. I hope you are keeping The Mons company up in pet heaven.

AndyW said...

I think Sammy had about as good a second act as any dog ever. She was six when we adopted her and as shaggy then as she was in her last days.

Despite a string of health problems that would have embittered a lesser dog, she was as sweet and loyal and loving as anyone could ask for.

A few of my favorite memories:

- a day at the beach at Westport where she chased seagulls and waded in the ocean and finally, just a block away from home, puked up half the beach in the car

- after her ACL surgery, she had to be confined in a pen for several weeks while she recovered. I set up a video camera to see what she was doing in there while we were gone. She filled the entire tape with the most mournful howls ever heard in Shoreline. We let her out of the pen after that, as anyone with a heart would.

- when you scratched her belly, she would point her toes as straight as an arrow.

- one Christmas, we'd gotten fancy European candy bars as stocking stuffers for friends. They were wrapped and inside a bag, but Samdog found them and gobbled up the whole batch. We discovered the remains and had to force feed her hydrogen peroxide to get the chocolate out. We waited and waited and waited, and finally she headed to the stairs leading to the basement and unleashed a chocolate waterfall that would do Niagara proud.

- when we first got her, she'd been living outside in the wilds of Arlington for several months. The workers building a house next door would feed her donuts, and she had a bag of generic dog food, but certainly no love. She was overgrown like a blackberry patch. Her first stop after we got her was to the groomer and we honestly didn't recognize her after the groomer finished.

Goodbye Sammy. Your floppy ears, stubby tail and round little belly will live forever.

janie said...

Ah, sad. What a good friend Sammy has been for all of you. Well, if there is an afterlife for pets, it surely just became a better place for the old souls hanging out there. Take care.