Ceremony

We did a fire ceremony as a celebration for Sam this evening at dusk.  I felt Sam with us as we gathered around a small bonfire.  Sam had been part of bonfires in the past, so it was no surprise to feel his presence.  We shared our memories and teachings from Sam and how we wanted to carry some of those gifts from Sam into this New Year...

Here is a picture of Sam from the woods at my parents' house  - one of my favorites...  He is loved and missed and with us always...

A Reminder...

I started this post with a title and a quote on May 16, 2011 when Sam said to me, "I'm not a problem to be solved, I'm a dog to be loved."  That really hit home when it happened and I've thought about it often in the intervening months.  As we began to care for Sam's physical needs more and more, his declaration had even more meaning.  I was reminded to spend time with Sam instead of always planning or thinking about him.  I'm not sure that I'm content with my balancing act of caring for and being with, though I guess it's water under the bridge now.  I do know that he got a lot of kisses and hugs, and "I love yous", and some trips to the barn, and "I missed you today, Buds", and lots of extra pizza bones and treats.

Sam was rarely a very snuggly dog, he loved us thoroughly and knew himself well enough to honor his need for space and so did we.  I often watched him sleeping or resting and enjoyed his peace and mine.  Sometimes it was hard not to lie with him and hug and snuggle him, especially this last year.  He would often tolerate us for a while according to his good nature and in-born manners and sometimes he would move away a bit or turn his head.  As if to say, "No hard feelings, I just need a little space, Mom."  No worries, Sam, I understand you're a dog to be loved and love doesn't have to mean physical contact or close proximity.  You are still a dog to be loved, we're just a little farther apart than we were last week...

Our Last Drive Home

I realized the other day that when I say that I'm driving to New York to visit my family, I say that I am driving home.  When I drive the return trip to Ohio, I also say that I am driving home.  One week and one day ago, Sampson, Allie, 4 cats and I drove home to New York together.  I had a great time on the drive, mostly blue skies, pretty clear roads, and the best travel companions I could hope for.  Around 4:15pm, probably somewhere east of Buffalo, New York, I saw the beginning of a rainbow - faint and still definitely a rainbow.  Then I noticed - WOW - a second rainbow segment also starting from the ground and just "outside" of the first rainbow.  I have rarely seen rainbows starting from the ground and even more rarely double rainbows - WOW!  A few minutes later, I noticed the OTHER side of the rainbow to my left starting at the ground - also double.  WOW!  I was driving into the rainbow even though I could only see the ends.  The rainbow began to get brighter and brighter and impossibly brighter - it was by far the brightest rainbow with the most intense colors that I had ever seen.  All of a sudden I looked up and I could see the ENTIRE rainbow arching above me.  One side on my left and one side on my right arcing over us and the NYS Thruway.  I was able to drive and watch the rainbows for about 30 minutes, I think, before they slowly faded away.  I took a few pictures with my cell phone (I know, not the best idea, but I was VERY careful).  I was stunned and amazed and thrilled with this event.  I was wondering if other people were noticing - how could they NOT notice??

Also on our drive home, we shared french fries from McDonalds (apologies to all my slow and gourmet foodie friends :) - a road trip tradition with me and the dogs.  It started with Sam and Sara and has continued to include Abby and now Allie, too.  Sam had two big french fries when I usually only give him one small piece.  He happily gobbled them down.  Maybe somehow we knew it was the last time?  At our rest stop Sam and Allie made a few friends when we parked near a couple with an older yellow Lab named Alex...  We had so much fun on that drive.  I couldn't have asked for a better "last drive home" with Sam.

I have made that drive with Sam since he was a puppy and we moved to Ohio - yes, I moved to Ohio one month after I adopted Sam, close to 17 years ago.  Another big event in my life.  All those times I have made that drive with him - and I've never done it without him. 

So, early next week we'll "drive home" again.  For the first time, without Sam, though I will still have the rainbows that he left me with....and french fries...  It's good to have a few different "homes" - I hope Sam is enjoying one of his right now.

Love ya', Bud...

Today...

...I have been struggling with Sampson's departure and wondering why I'm struggling.  I'm incredibly lucky - I shared nearly 17 years of my life with him.  Ah-ha, there are some clues in that sentence.  "I" shared those years with him.  I adopted Sam on my own, my decision, my choice, my life, my independence, my younger years.  "Nearly 17 years" with Sam - I also lived at home with my parents for 17 years before going to college, out on my own, new experiences, risks and rewards, excitement, choices, independence. 

My Mom brought Sandy home when we were kids.  Sara, Sam and Abby were all my dogs.  I chose them and they chose me.  Allie is the first dog that has entered my life as an agreement with someone else, a collaboration, a cooperative decision.  Maybe there's something there...  Maybe this feels more like being "grown-up" or "responsible" (yuck :)  Not that Allie or Mike are yucky, of course...  And I'm a big proponent of responsibility usually...  Hmmmm....

I think that my Self is feeling a loss of identity associated with losing connection to that younger, independent, own-choice-making Jen.  I just re-read that sentence and I'm not sure what it means so I'm going to have to mull on it...  It seems that somehow Sam was a link to parts of me that I value.  So, without a physical presence of Sam, I'll have to realize what those parts are, why I value them and then come up with some plan to...do something?  Not sure yet.  Sam's leaving may have brought to light that I needed to remember those parts - since he had been "remembering" them for me.

For what it's worth...

Sam the Flirt

Sampson has always enjoyed the company of other dogs.  He had friends of both sexes though he did often seem to flirt with girls...  Even into his elder years.  Last fall Sam was with me one Sunday evening when I was teaching agility in Akron.  We were finishing up and I brought him into the building while we picked up equipment.  As soon as he came into the building, Eva trotted over to Sam and the mutual flirting began.  Some of you know Eva, for those who don't, she is a Border Collie mix - all black and about 18 months old - and EXTREMELY cute.  Eva was thoroughly impressed with Sam's handsome, rugged good looks, air of experience, confident wag, and sparkling conversation.  She cavorted around him and frolicked about in the ring while Sam strutted his stuff for her.  He entered the ring happily wagging his tail and smiling at her antics.  She would charge towards him and drop into a playbow right in front of him.  His smiles and tail said, "If I were a year or two younger, Kid, I'd be chasing you around and playbowing right back at you."  Beth (Eva's person) and I had huge grins plastered across our faces and we were spontaneously bursting into laughter at the show we were enjoying.

All of a sudden, I saw a thought cross Sampson's face.  He had an idea.  He started walking quickly (for an almost 16 year old dog) and steadily towards....the TUNNEL!!  Sam had decided to impress Eva by doing the tunnel.  I could hardly contain my pride or my amazement.  My heart was bursting...  He entered the tunnel and steadily marched through it.  As I watched the tunnel shake with his progress, Eva stood by stunned and amazed.  She patiently awaited his arrival and when he emerged she joyfully ran to him and showered him with kisses and compliments on his tunnelling abilities.  He wagged and wagged and wagged and smiled and smiled and smiled at Eva and at his accomplishment.

What a cool guy!  That's how I remember Sam - I'll bet that's how Eva remembers him too...  Such a charmer - he had me at "Hello".

Thunderstorms

The only thing that Samspon was ever afraid of was thunderstorms.  And he was VERY afraid of thunderstorms.  The list of things that I'm afraid of is relatively short, though not as short as Sam's list. 

He would know when a storm was approaching and would wake me up by lying on my head.  Literally.  When a 50lb. dog lies on your head, you notice.  I just realized that Sam was only really afraid of thunderstorms at night or when we weren't home.  If there was a storm during the day when we were home, he wasn't very bothered.  If there was a storm while we were gone we would sometimes find him in the basement when we got home.  When a storm was coming at night I would wake up with Sam on or near my head and the only thing that would comfort him was letting him sleep next to me with his head buried under my pillow or the sheets.  Picture it.  Big, strong, brave, gentle Sam with his head shoved under my pillow for "safety".  I would pet him and tell him it would be fine and I not-so-secretly loved those times when he needed some comforting.  When the storm was over he would emerge and return to his normal independent self.  I often think that he sheepishly claimed to have been comforting me during the storm...

Just thunderstorms.  That's the only thing he was ever afraid of.  I don't know why, though I know that it was true for his whole life - until he began to lose his hearing.  The blessing of hearing loss for Sam was sleeping through thunderstorms.

I'm going to spend some time with the things that I'm afraid of and see if I can know why they affect me.  I'm also going to see what I can "sleep through"...  What about you?

Sampson the Hunter

Sam, the sweetest, wisest, most gentlemanly dog, the ambassador of his species - was also a hardened killer.  Thankfully, he only had two enemies in the world - woodchucks and skunks. 

Sam's first adventure I call "the practice woodchuck".  Abby's frantic barking gave me a clue that something was going on, so I ran to find Sam (we were hiking off leash at Squire Valleevue Farm, yes, I know that's not allowed).  I found Sam with a VERY large woodchuck in his jaws as he shook it vigorously.  However, he had grabbed the unfortunate critter too far back and instead of breaking its neck he was likely just giving it a splitting headache and some nausea.  I straddled Sam and lifted his front end off the ground.  So now, I'm holding Sam and shaking him and he's holding the woodchuck and shaking IT.  Finally he dropped it and, no kidding, the woodchuck landed on the ground and then turned to face us like, "Bring it on!!!"  I yelled some choice words at the woodchuck including some rather insulting comments about his mental abilities.  After a few minutes he waddled off into the woods unharmed.  Sam went back on leash for the next hour or so and when I let him off - a good couple of hundred yards away.  Yup, you guessed it, he bolted right back to where the woodchuck had been...

He eventually fine tuned his technique to my chagrin and two other woodchucks and a skunk met their demise in his jaws.  He grabbed the skunk one day on a walk with my Dad in Cleveland Heights.  My Dad returned and told us what had happened - Sam was reeking of skunk and I said, "But what happened to the skunk?"  My Dad said that it had gotten away, so we set to cleaning Sam up.  MUCH later - like years later - my Dad confessed that Sam had killed the skunk and my Dad had gone back and collected it and put it in the garbage can on the corner so that I wouldn't be mad at Sam :)

Over the years, Sam and Abby got skunked several times and it only seemed to cause them to be even more incensed (no pun intended :) the next time they happened upon a "perfume kitty" as the previous owners of my house were wont to call them...

So there were many sides to Sam.  I'm not sure what caused him to despise (or at least want to eliminate) those two varieties of relatively harmless animals, though it was quite an inconvenient obsession.  I suppose it's a reminder that we're all different in different situations and no matter how well we know someone, or ourselves, there is usually something that we still don't know, don't understand, or can't explain.  A little mystery is a good thing...as long as it doesn't smell too bad :).

Sam's Many Lives

I'm remembering how lucky Sam and I are to have been together for so long - and also how many times he scared the b'jesus out of me by using up some of his "lives".  Such as:

• jumping out the passenger's side car window at a stop sign to chase a squirrel in Shaker Heights when he was about 1 year old (I pulled the car over left my dog Sara in the car and tracked him into someone's back yard where I recaptured him)...
• waking up to a trembling (otherwise normally acting) Sampson in the Spring of 2000 - going to the vet and learning that he had most likely ingested a neurotoxin (slug poison, maybe?) and it was too late to induce vomiting so he would either die or not depending on how much he  had ingested (the dogs and I stayed in bed for about 24 hours to keep him calm minimizing the risk of seizures and he recovered just fine)
• finding Sam wandering on the shoulder of Fairmount Road in front of my apartment in an area with poor visibility (Spring of 2000 - back on leash for walks and after a week or two my heart rate came back down)
• also Spring 2000, Sam coming home with a bleeding head wound after about 5-10 minutes loose in the yard (also at my apartment on Fairmount, needed to be stapled closed hence his nickname Frankendog)
• Sam's "fever of unknown origin" event in 2008 (detailed earlier)
• surgery for a growth on his jaw at about 3 years old (~1998) that was likely cancerous in the vet's opinion (it was benign)
• summer of 1998 (age 3 1/2 years) when he spooked three deer during a walk at the Polo Field (off leash, yes, I know that's not allowed) and chased them across Chagrin River Road at full speed (I ran as fast as I could because I knew that if I called him he would come back across the road - I wasn't fast enough and I saw him running back towards River Road and me, so I closed my eyes and opened them when I didn't hear a "thud" or screeching tires - he was safely back across and running toward me full tilt - Good Boy!!)
• disappearing on a walk with me and Sidney at Andrews (also around 1998) - not one of my best judgement days - I had decided to ride Sidney (a horse I was leasing) through the woods and thought it would be fun for Sam to come too - except Sam didn't stay with us and I couldn't go look for him because I was on a horse (I rode back to the barn and someone showed up with Sam asking if he belonged to anyone at the barn - whew!)
• Christmas 2010 - LAST Christmas-time Sam was not sleeping at all at my parents' house every other night - literally - every other night Mike or I would not sleep because he was barking and unsettled, I wasn't sure he would make it to Christmas and then not sure he would make it to New Year's (he did and bounced back stunningly for most of 2011)

Looking over this list, it's AMAZING that we had so much time together!!  I especially relish our last year together.  I'm guessing this gives many of you a glimpse of Sam and I that you might not have had before...  It was a long, long road and I've loved the ride. 

I'm looking forward to the next adventures that Sam and I have before us. I'm remembering to live in the moment - even the scary or sad moments.  Every moment will pass and the only one that's guaranteed is the one we're in right NOW...

Sampson and Kids

I met Sampson when I volunteered at the Finger Lakes Humane Society (almost 17 years ago) where he was given up as a puppy.  I was asked to take a puppy to a Pre-School when they were doing a Pet Day event.  I picked Sampson (who I had named when he came into the shelter).  He spent the hour or so wading through the sea of 4 year olds, smiling and laughing at them as they petted him, fed him biscuits and hugged him.  Hmmm, I thought, this is a special puppy.  Apparently the teacher thought so too, because she sent her husband to the Shelter to adopt Sampson and the Director told him that she was pretty sure a volunteer (me) was going to adopt him (totally against her own rule of "he's not yours until the papers are signed" and oh, I had never even MENTIONED adopting Sam). 

Sam continued his affection for and tolerance of children for his entire life despite not spending a lot of time around youngsters.  Here is a picture of Sam from Elkton, Maryland this past summer (at 16 1/2 years old and probably with some discomfort from arthritis) surrounded by his young friends who wanted him to meet Sparkle their very small, white, stuffed :) dog. 

Sam dutifully met Sparkle while throwing me looks and saying, "Seriously?  I still have to do this stuff?  It's not even a real dog.  You owe me BIG time for this one.  Yes, girls, she's beautiful, she certainly is.  Seriously, Mom?"

We visited the office of Sam's chiropractor this fall and a family came in with several small children (between 2 and 5 years old, maybe).  There were several other humans and dogs in the office and the kids went around and visited all the dogs (except one small dog who wasn't crazy about kids).  When the doctor came out he said, "Kids, you can pet the dogs if you want to, except for this one", indicating Sampson.  He assumed that since Sam was really old and likely ouchy that he wouldn't tolerate kids.  The children had already petted and hugged Sam and the doctor was shocked that he had been okay with that.  I wasn't shocked, just a day in the life of Sam.  He was always the most gentle, kind, and understanding soul and continued to be so through his last day when Doctor Baum at the Emergency Hospital commented that despite Sam's probable discomfort he didn't whimper, snap, or growl during his poking and prodding examination.  He was surprised - I was not.  Just a day in the life of Sam...

"Just because I'm uncomfortable, that doesn't mean I should take it out on others."  Another Sam-ism?  Something else for me to work on, I think...

Going to the Car

When Sam was done being at the barn and ready to go home he would go and lie by the car.  Even over the last few months when walking was tougher for him, I would return to the car and he would be next to the driver's side door having walked there from wherever I left him (within 20 feet of the car). 

One time, several years ago, Abby was dashing about the whole property frantically looking for me everywhere (I was riding Emmy in the field and she didn't see me), people were trying to comfort her and explain that I hadn't left her, she was inconsolable.  Sam?  Sam was lying by the car.  "We came in the car, so we have to leave in the car and Abby, the car is still here, so Mom's still here.  Relax."

Sam also started to "go to the car" other places when he was ready to go.  Here is a picture from this summer in Elkton, Maryland when we were getting ready to leave.  Sam is pictured after he "went to the car" on his own and he's getting a good-bye hug from Reese Khanjar.

My ever wise Mike said to me last night when I was having trouble leaving the Hospital for the final time, "Jen, he's lying by the car now.  It's time to go.  He's lying by the car."  And he was right.  It was time for Sam to go and it was time for me to go.  Sam was lying by the car.

Another lesson.  When it's time to go, go.  Don't monkey around, get going.  If you can't drive yourself, at least go lie by the car.

Love ya', Bud...

My Light

We decided to take Sam from the vet's office where he had spent the day on Thursday to the Emergency Hospital for the night where he would be monitored by their 24 hour staff.  He had not declined, though he had not really improved either.  The vet there was wonderful, reminding me a lot of Dr. Clemens, and was straight forward about Sam's condition and prognosis.  We (Mike, Sam, and I) decided to give him a chance to see if he wanted to come back.  I asked Sam repeatedly if he wanted to let go and his answer was always, "No".  Mike had the same feeling.  Even in the car on the drive to the Hospital after my parents went inside, I told Sam that if he wanted to let go right now, he could.  I said, "It's just you and me, Bud, just like it's always been.  It's okay if you want to let go."  He said, "No, not yet."  The staff at the Hospital were wonderful and caring and the doctor agreed with our plan to see if he could recover with supportive care and rest.  This episode was shockingly similar to the event in 2008 (a high fever of unknown origin), so we figured that if he was going to come back again we'd know pretty soon.  We agreed that we didn't want to do any more testing or heroic-type measures.  They made Sam very comfortable on blankets in a kennel near the door so that everyone could see him and keep an eye on his condition.  We went in to say goodbye to Sam and they assured us that they would call if he declined so that we could come and see him.  I left relatively calm and knowing that we were doing the right thing and what Sam wanted.

Then we went to a Kenny Rogers Christmas and Hits concert that I had gotten tickets for earlier in the week (as a present to my parents).  Interesting timing, huh?  I started checking my phone slightly obsessively around 8pm and kept checking it periodically during the concert.  No calls.  At about 9:30pm, I began to feel anxious and felt a tightening in my chest.  I wanted to leave NOW.  A few more songs, blah, blah, come on Kenny, hurry it up, I NEED TO LEAVE!  At what appeared to be the last song, we began to walk out to avoid the crowds, oops, one more song, we sat down in the aisle on the steps.  Hurry up, Kenny!  Finally we walked out, successfully avoiding the throngs and headed for the car.  When we got into the car, I checked my phone.  Two voice messages.  Missed calls from the Hospital at 9:58 and 10:06pm.  It was 10:09pm.  I called and it took about 10 years for Doctor Baum to come to the phone.  He very kindly explained to me that about 20 minutes earlier Sam had either a stroke or an aneurysm and stopped breathing.  They attempted to resuscitate him and during that attempt, his heart just gradually stopped beating. 

This was what Sam wanted.  He did not want me to be there when he passed and he did not want me to have to make a "decision".  He did it his way, like he always did.  He probably orchestrated the buying of those concert tickets, too.  If we hadn't been at a concert, we might not have left him or we might have been back sooner.  He somehow convinced Kenny Rogers to collaborate with him - without that final song and the applause I would have noticed my phone vibrating and we would have been rushing back to the Hospital sooner.

We visited his physical form, though he was obviously gone.  I had seen him running like a puppy next to our car on our way to the Hospital.  He is just fine, now.  I'm the one who needed to see "him" one last time. 

So now there is a big black furry hole in my life.  I miss him and I know that it was the right time for him and the right way for him to leave us.  Allie, L.C., Jinx, Jasper, and Archie are doing their best to fill in - snuggling, making me smile, and generally acting normal.  Sam must have left them instructions.  I can hear him now, "She's going to be a mess, trust me.  I've been through this with her twice before, I should know.  So here's what you need to do, team...."

Still teaching, still Sam...

Sam, Allie, and L.C.

Sam and I had two constant companions last night - Allie and L.C. which stands for Little Cat and is pronounced Elsie.  L.C. is the kitten who showed up on our deck one week to the day after my car accident (hence her name).  Each of these relative youngsters and new additions to our family were teaching me last night.  Simple lessons from each of them, though not always easy.

Allie got a pretty good night's sleep, untroubled by Sam's distress.  L.C. is visiting New York for the first time and was thoroughly exploring her boundaries (my upstairs bedroom) and playing with a pink ball.  I felt that Allie was modeling the inevitability of the situation for me - whatever happens is what happens.  At one point in the early morning, she jumped off the bed and laid down next to Sam with her spine to his spine.  Yin and yang, male and female, mostly white and mostly black, young and old, entering and preparing to depart.  She has (mostly) always been gently curious and affectionate with Sam and he has been extremely tolerant of her youthful energy and enthusiasm - which sometimes includes jumping over him as he lies on the floor or stepping on him by accident.  Here is a picture of them together from this Spring when Allie joined us...

Meanwhile, L.C. was apparently oblivious to everything Sam and I were going through.  "Why are you on the floor with Sam?  Hey, I want some pets too!  Pet me!  Hi, Sam, what are you doing?  I'm going to GET that pink ball!!  Get out of the way, Sam, I want some water, too...", etc., etc.  Again, the inevitability of the situation.  To all things there are a season and as one season ends, another begins...

Simple, though not easy.  For me at least, and especially with my animal friends...

Snow Pictures

Two more snow pictures - these are from early this year (I believe)...  One on our deck and one in the field at the barn.

Sam in The Snow

Sam has always loved the snow.  He would throw himself down in it and roll on his back and make doggie snow angels.  He hasn't done this in a few years, however, we had some snow this week and he did venture about 15-20 feet out in to the middle of the yard in it.  His progress was documented by the footsteps and the mashed down places where he rested on his trip.  I wasn't home when this happenend and no one directly witnessed his trek, so I'm choosing to imagine that he "angel-ed" his way over the middle of the yard.

I'm so glad that it snowed for Sam this week, just in case he doesn't get to see the snow again on this part of his life's journey.  Here are a couple of photos from 2008, just after he recovered from the previous mystery fever...  What a handsome guy!!

The Pain of Regret

Perhaps an obvious topic today.  I'm regretting not posting more Sam stories this year.  I'm regretting not spending more time with Sam each day than I have.  I'm regretting that I have cared for his physical self without always spending time with the rest of him.  I'm regretting that sometimes Sam became something that had to be washed, or taken out, or fed, or placated, or inspected.  I'm regretting that I didn't sleep next to Sam on the floor more times and take him to the barn more and ....

I'm realizing that there is always going to be the opportunity to regret.  Whether I take it or not is up to me.  I'm trying to put it back down.  I can only do what I can do with what I have and where I am.  And that is enough.  Still working on this one.

I miss my dog...

Eternal Optimism - Part II

I wrote about Sam's eternal optimism with respect to attempting to catch every snack tossed to him despite catching none of them.  What I have neglected to add is that Sam began to catch a significant number of snacks in the last couple of months.  On several occasions he caught about 70-80% of the goodies.  Pretty impressive numbers, huh?  So how did this happen?  Well, Sam kept being Sam.  He kept doing his thing - watch the hand intently, track its arc, quickly calculate the exact trajectory of the object using obscure algebra and calculus theorems and functions, and then open mouth at the predicted time of treat arrival.  Sam was predictable.  He kept doing Sam - and I perfected my tosses.  I helped by tossing in perfect time to his predictable mouth opening.  If we missed, we tried again.  And sometimes again and again...

Sam's lesson to me is that if we keep being and doing our true self and don't give up and don't get distracted or try to be something that we are not - sometimes the outside world comes to meet us where we are.  Sometimes the tosses get better and we catch more treats.  Sam had to show up - he had to track, he had to open, he had to stay engaged and look for the treats on the floor that he missed, he had to keep trying - and the tosses got better...

Hmmmm.....  Thanks, Sam.

A Long, Long Night

Around 1am, Sam began to act strangely.  He would make a strange, gargley noise that became a bark.  I could not tell if it was pain, disorientation, frustration, or something else.  I was up most of the night helping him to be as comfortable as possible and deciding if I needed to take him to an emergency clinic.  I decided not to take him in for two reasons - first of all, there were times when I thought he might be passing on and I figured that it would be best to stay put and be present with him; secondly, he would rest apparently comfortably for periods of up to an hour at a time between episodes. 

I am as comfortable as I can be with my decision to wait until morning.  We went to the vet this morning and Sam had a fever of 106 - extremely high.  Our choices were to put him to sleep or start him on fluids, antibiotics and temperature reducing methods as well as doing blood work and X-rays to try and diagnose the root cause.  Mike is not in New York yet, so I called him and we both agreed that we didn't feel that Sam was ready to leave just yet.  My sense from Sam is that he was fine with whatever we decided - either way is okay with him.  This still could be the end of the road for Sam, though we are going to see if some basic care and monitoring shifts his situation.  In February 2008, some of you will remember that we had a similar episode with Sam (high fever, admitted to the hospital, etc.) - though we never determined a cause, he fully recovered from that event, however ths is an almost 4 years older dog (equivalent to probably 15-20 human years).

We'll know more this afternoon.  If he isn't stabilizing enough to suit the doctor they will recommend that we transfer him to an Emergency Hospital that is staffed 24 hours, or make a decision to help him pass.  We'll cross that bridge when we come to it...

In the meantime, my plan is to add more stories to Sam's blog and take a nap...

Thanks to Everyone for your wonderful support!
Jen, Mike, Sam, Allie, Emmy, and the cats