The blue of Heaven is larger than the clouds, reminding us to look for the rainbows after the storm.
Unknown.
I saved my money and bought him all on my own. Chuck offered to buy him for me, but I guess the girl who saved up for the saddle still wanted to do something on her own. He was all mine. I was delighted to have him. Since I was a little girl, I dreamed of the day I could have a Golden Retriever again. Now, here he was.
I named him Samson. He was full, thick, and wiry. He had a long-haired golden coat with a tongue that hung down to the ground. I’m pretty sure I saw him smile on different occasions – wink. He would run circles around whatever had his attention. Anyone in his path was his best friend. There was no calling him back when a walk was on the schedule; Samson would bolt and jump as high as my head with excitement for the same walk – every day. He would walk step by step with Chuck as he mowed the grass and find pure enjoyment with the many sticks thrown his way. The grill became a familiar scent for him, knowing bones would later be delivered. The havoc he would wreck on the yard and my back porch as a puppy was more than I had bargained for. But he survived to tell the “tails” (no pun intended- wink).
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Ten years have passed without much consideration of his age until the day he came limping from the woods. With no answers as to what happened, we watched as the limp continued to worsen to the point he could no longer move his back leg. At the same time, a mass grew on his front leg. Right away, we knew that would have to be removed. We took him back to a familiar vet, the same vet from when he was a pup. He took the mass off with no trouble and told us his back leg would heal.
As the wound was healing, Samson began to lick his leg. Not able to reach the incision, he decided to lick the entire leg. His leg was raw and now exposed to all kinds of bacteria. Needless to say, a severe infection arose. We took him close by to our local vet. He couldn’t offer us much hope. The infection was too severe and had spread internally. The vet was not sure if Samson was going to make it. The next two weeks would show whether he would have to be put down or not.
As I listened to the vet, I could hear Marilla on Anne of Green Gables say, “Jonah Days come to us all.” Sometimes, you feel like you are in the belly of a fish. Truth is, you might be. But God is steadily guiding the whale. I knew then if he had to be put down, I would finish what I started the day I purchased Samson.
No longer able to get up by himself, Chuck would carry Samson and lay him in the yard so he could watch the kids play and his buddies dive for rocks. Unable to dig next to Eva and Charlotte down in the creek, viewing seemed to pacify him. As long as he could see them, he wouldn’t whine. It always amazes me how an animal can form a bond with humans.
In the whole history of the world, there is but one thing that many cannot buy… to wit- the wag of a dog’s tail.
Josh Billings
Our newest additions, Hansel and Cutie, have proven to be a perfect fit. Hansel, the male German Shepherd, whines and remains at a distance, much like Lola, the mother, did. He is already quite the guard dog, large and in charge. Cutie, who we thought would be just like her, has proven to be nothing like Lola. Somewhere, something got crossed. Although she looks just like Lola, she is as happy as a butterfly.
Samson wanted so badly to lie at the front door so he could see us inside. A few attempts and stumbles back down proved impossible. I spied Chuck lift him from the bottom step and carry him to the top, where he lay, satisfied, until evening. Then, Chuck scooped him up and took him to the garage, where he would be warm for the night.
I couldn’t help but call to mind Chuck’s words when we first got Samson, “A Golden Retriever. Why?” Thinking back to all the mischief he got into and the mud he would find made me laugh. I never saw anything make Chuck mad – until Samson. But it never seemed to faze him. Samson would still find his evening rest beside Chuck during hot summer nights when Chuck would sit on the back porch. And his tail would wag incessantly when he knew a truck ride was coming. Samson’s whole body would hang over the side of the truck except for his back legs, keeping him secured. Ten years later, I didn’t need to wonder if Chuck knew why we needed a dog like this.
What would a blind man give to see the pleasant rivers, meadows, flowers, fountains, and many other blessings we enjoy daily.
Izaak Walton.
Charlotte couldn’t understand why Samson couldn’t play, and Eva was mad, asking why God made Samson sick. We gently explained that God didn’t make Samson sick; the slithery snake in the garden did. God came to purchase our freedom so our tears could flow freely and wash away the hurt we sometimes feel in this world. God heals our hearts to love one more time.
My mother called the girls while they were sad and said something endearing: “All the years, Samson has come to play with you; now it’s time for you to go to him. Go slow with him. Rest beside him. He knows you’re there. That’s all he wants.” The next day, I saw Eva sitting beside him at the creek. Samson was content.
I cried, watching him fade. I know pets have their place, but so much time and personality get wrapped up in the years—they become part of the family. It’s hard to let them go. Crying, I asked my father why. As a kid, our family dog, Sam, lived to be fifteen. “Why can’t Samson live that long?” I bellowed!
He responded firmly yet lovingly, “Because life is not scripted, Sis. Life comes and it goes. It’s mostly out of our control. It’s in the losing that makes the winning so good.” He continued, “There is a narrow space between falling off the faith path into the abyss of doubt on one side and the abyss of misdirected hope on the other. But while I’d rather be guilty of asking for too much than not enough, I don’t want to lose the hope I’ve sown by grasping for what God has already decided He’s not going to do. Keep your balance and remember these words. You will need them again someday.”
We returned to the vet two weeks later, expecting to hear the worst. I prayed once more for Samson. “Lord, help Samson get better. More than that, Lord, help my kids. Losing your best buddy is hard when you’re too young to understand. Charlotte and Eva love this dog, and I would like for Tyson to get to know him, too. If it’s time for us to say goodbye, give me the courage to stand right here and let him go. Otherwise, let him come home for more time in the creek and walk down the path. – Amen“
The vet was astounded when Chuck carried him inside. His leg was healing nicely. Even though he could not walk much yet, he felt like Samson had a fighting chance. “I would not put this dog down. Two weeks ago, I thought as much, but he has fight left in him. Let him go as long as he wants. He will let you know.”
With that, we all cheered! Samson was coming home! With some medicine, he would even walk again. I leaned over to the girls and said, “Did you see that? God showed up—right on time, as always.” If I can teach my kids to reach for faith now, they will know what to do when it really counts.
Samson continues to heal and tag along down the path. He knows when he has gone far enough and sits and waits patiently as I finish strolling through the woods with the rest of the crew. On my return, I sit beside him for a few minutes and throw rocks in the creek. Then, we slowly make our way back to the house together.
In the late afternoons, Eva helps Samson across the creek so he can lay beside her while Charlotte and her play. Listening to the creek trickle by, book in hand, and Tyson sitting quietly beside me, the view is irreplaceable.
I don’t know how long Samson will live, but I know we found the rainbow at the end of the storm. Jonah Days make the good days beautiful.
Where the birds make their nests. The stork has her home in the fir trees. The high hills are for the wild goats; The cliffs are a refuge for the rock badgers. Psalm 104:17-18
