Hey Old Man

This is my old man.

His name is Sam.

That’s short for Samson.

Sam came to us 16 years ago.  Some neighbors brought his Mama home from Dallas, cuz she, a large black lab, was hanging around the hotel and seemed to not have an owner.

Unbeknown to the neighbors, Samson’s Mama was preggers.

And we have no earthly idea what breed his Daddy was.  Do any of you have any ideas?

He has been at my side for so many years, I can’t imagine life without him.  If I move from the living room to the bedroom, no matter how hard it is to struggle to his feet, Sam follows me.  If I go out in the backyard to water my flower pots, Sam is at the door lovingly watching out for me.

Oh, and poor Sam has had to deal with this humiliation over the past few months…and it kind of drives him nuts.

We hated that the one thing that Sam was rebellious about was running out the front door, and sure enough a few years back, Sam got hit by a car.  We had a steel plate put in to mend his broken leg.   The surgery worked for a year, then one day, he tried to catch a squirrel and has held his dangling leg up ever since.

Unless he sees another squirrel.  Then he drops on all fours and takes off.

The faker.

In recent years, Sam’s developed these tumor type looking huge bumps all over him.  The doctor says he’s too old for another surgery and the bumps are just something that happens to old men.

I don’t really like hearing these things.  I don’t like admitting he’s old.

And I never want to be without the old man.