Sampson

We immediately knew he was going to be ours.

Not wanting to waste time, we bombarded the rescue place with emails and phone calls. Finally they said to come. We entered the facility and immediately spotted square-headed, brindle, jowly Sampson, looking at us from within his kennel like a friend waiting impatiently on the other side of the airport customs gate for a midnight pickup: “I’m over here, when will they let me out, what took you so long, I could really pee, are you as hungry as I am?”

She brought Sampson to us as we sat down. He put his paws on my husband’s lap, licked his face, stayed. His stumpy tail never stopped wagging, a fuzzy metronome on prestissimo. Looked like a good fit to her, she said.

I drove while he rode in the backseat with my husband, Kim. Barely out of the parking lot, I heard Kim snore. Then I heard, “it’s not me.” My dog and my husband, as it turned out, are snoring twins.

It was abundantly clear – if Sam could speak, he’d have been saying, “I immediately knew I was going to be yours.” But of course he couldn’t speak. He was sleeping.

Then we discovered he had a heart murmur, hypothyroidism and cancer. And gas. Bad, bad gas.

Winston

Sampson needed a puppy of his own. Someone to play with, nurture, talk to. My husband showed me a picture of this 6-month old fawn Boxer mix up in Vancouver BC. Winston was “special” they said – non-specific neurological damage that was only evident when he tipped over. That was all it took – Sampson needed this crazy puppy.

Again, I bombarded the rescue agency but was told he had already been adopted by another family. The loss I felt… it didn’t seem fair – we had the perfect environment for Winston, not some other family. A few days passed, the agency said it didn’t work out for Winston at the other home, so they wanted to know if we were still interested. I told them I could make the 3-hour drive to Vancouver in 2.

They weren’t quite ready for me though. There was the extensive application, the long phone interview and then the meeting. They watched Sampson, making sure he wouldn’t be overly irritated by energetic, tippy Winston. It couldn’t have gone better. This puppy captured our hearts.

His tongue and teeth always stick out. He often leans way over to the right, like a semi rounding a sharp corner on two wheels. He superstitiously spins around before doing tricks or getting in the car. Runs like an interracial gazelle / kangaroo mix – both beautiful and unlike anything we’ve ever seen. More than anything, he’s sweet sweet sweet.

Sampson and Winston

Winston loves Sampson. Adores him. Cleans him, chews on him, provokes him to play, follows him, looks for him. He wears his heart on his little Boxer sleeve, couldn’t hide his adoration if he wanted to.

Sampson wouldn’t admit it, but he adores Winston. He allows him to chew on his hind leg while galumphing through the house. When we can’t stand the bedlam any longer and tell them, “no play,” they stop the running while Winston continues gnawing on Sam’s leg. Sam’s face says, “This little guy is so weird, can’t you do something about him?”

Sampson was gone one day, having his cancer tumor removed, and Winston was a different puppy – more tippy than usual, confused, unsure about where to go, what to do. Running around the house in search of Sam. His usual enthusiasm upon seeing Sampson was nothing compared to when we brought Sam home that night. Winston was beside himself with relief that we found and brought his Sampson back to him.

Picture two inseparable 5-year old best friends – holding hands, playing games, racing, fighting, sharing snacks, telling secrets. Sometimes one runs away from the other for alone time, but always they come looking for each other.

Someday one of these guys won’t find the other and there won’t be enough tissues in the world to dry my tears. It’ll be okay though, because I’m paying attention and storing impressions and situations and memories now, which I’ll use to combat the tears when they come. Situations that are funny, touching, interesting, scary, sweet and weird. But mostly funny – if you know Boxers, you’ll understand.

And that’s what this is going to be about – our tales of two wonderful Boxers.