Jivin' Performance Dogs: July 2014

It's been a hard week. It's funny because Sammy didn't do much but lay around and sleep the last few months. But her presence was still huge. And we had routines at meal time, and walk time, that heavily involved her since her issues made things a bit more complicated. It's been at those times, and even more so when I lay in bed at night and look at her empty space, that I feel most sad. Some of the dogs are really missing her too, and some seem quite oblivious.

So we've all been finding a new groove this week. I have been really trying to focus on the living, in the hopes that it will ease the pain of her death. Each day gets a bit easier, though I still find myself desperately wanting to cuddle with my sweetest girl.

I've also been looking back at the many pictures I have taken of her over the years. I know I am a bit picture crazy, but I am SO grateful for all the pictures now! I just don't think you can take enough. I have been marveling at how black and sleek Sammy looked in her youth. It's pretty amazing how much our dogs change over time, and we don't really see it as we look at them every day.

I realized after I wrote my last post that I didn't even mention all the titles she got in agility. And that got me really thinking about how little they matter. I'd trade them all for another day with her. The titles are a mere nod to the relationship that I built with Sammy and the amazing journey we had. So many are caught up in the chase for titles, which I do understand, but lose sight of the moments that we share with our dogs that make up the journey.

I've lost dogs before. I've lost old dogs, that I rescued and loved. I lost Jive, and that shattered me in a way that is hard to describe. But losing Sammy is a different loss---she's the first dog I've lost that I created an intense, deep connection with over a long period of time. I think when you choose to train your dog in a sport, and you spend hours and hours training them, competing with them, traveling with them, you create an even more special bond, on a different level.

I am grateful that most of the people that I surround myself with understand my grief on some level. My dogs are my family, and it's hard when you lose a piece of your family. But it's all part of sharing our lives with beings who just don't live nearly long enough. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

I will be forever grateful to Sammy for all the lessons she taught me and the amazing amount of love she gave me, even when I didn't deserve it.

Silver Bullet Sammy

5/1/00-6/29/14

Saying goodbye to our beloved companions is one of the most painful experiences an animal lover can go through. On one hand, it's an amazing gift to be able to release our dogs from their pain and suffering, but it sure is hard to make that final decision. I hope that I am always so connected to my dogs that I will know when they tell me it's time to go. And after 13.5 years to the day of sharing my life with sweet Sam Sam, she told me loud and clear that she was done with her body. Knowing she likely had a brain tumor and there was no hope of her getting any better, it was time to free her, even though every ounce of my being wanted to fight it. I know she would have kept going if I asked her to, as she was so loyal and bonded, but it would have been very selfish of me.

For the last six months or so, Sammy has been deteriorating, and had become a dog I barely recognized. She was no longer the happy go lucky, vibrant, feisty dog I spent so much time with. So I had plenty of time to prepare for this. But I realize now that you are never prepared for something like this, no matter how hard you try. Sam was the matriarch of the house, and the pack seems so much smaller without her in it. And she always walked right behind me on our walks, and that space is so empty now.

I adopted Sammy from the Charlottesville Albemarle SPCA on December 29, 2000. She had been dropped off by her former owner less than 2 hours before I walked in and saw her. She still had her collar and tags on. And she had clearly been loved as her intake form said that she loved tennis balls and sleeping on the bed. I suspect that she was surrendered for her separation anxiety, which I was soon to learn all about. She was also a very high energy pup that need a ton of exercise.

The first few years I had Sammy, most of our time was spent working through her anxiety, giving her tons of exercise (she loved running alongside my horse on trial rides) and doing basic obedience work. I then started training her in agility to keep her busy mind occupied. She took to it quite naturally but once in group classes, I realized that she also had an issue with new dogs. So I had to work on her dog/dog issues as well. It took me a few years to get her ready to compete, though looking back I realize that if I knew just half of what I know now about dog behavior, we would have been much more successful. But she started me on my journey, and had much to teach me.

So we started competing in late 2003 and that was a wild, wild ride! Sammy had major arousal issues and after being released from her startline stay, would maybe take the first jump, maybe not, and zoom around the ring at 100 mph, taking obstacles that wound up in her path, and ignoring me completely. She even ran right out of the ring a few times!!! Oh boy, I had no idea what to do with her!! It took me a few years more of working with her to convince her to play the game with me. And that was part of my journey as well---I had to learn how to make running with ME at agility trials fun and more rewarding then zooming around on her own.

Sammy taught me so much about patience, teaching dogs self control and creating a deeper relationship. All the work paid off and by 2005, she had become a nice, consistent partner. Distance work was never her strong suit but she rocked at snooker. One day I will have to go look and see how many snooker Q's that girl has. In late 2006, she hurt her back at a trial and she never quite fully recovered. I still trialed her sporadically, because she so enjoyed it, but I stopped asking her to do many contacts and weaves. At just 17" tall, she ran in USDAA performance her entire career so I was thrilled when I could run her in veterans at lower height since she still loved jumpers courses. Below is her second to last competition run, I don't have her last on video. But I am so glad I have this one to remind me of my girlie.

Sammy was always the queen of the house. She was respected by all the dogs, and had very clear rules for interacting with her. She slept literally next to me every night for 13.5 years. Oh, she was such a cuddlebug. She gave the BEST hugs---she'd put her paws on my shoulders and tuck her head in under my chin and just stay there. I can't even begin to count the number of hours we spent just walking together and going for hikes. For the last few years, she came to work with me and insisted on our midday walks. One of Sammy's favorite pastimes was bobbing for rocks in water. I would toss a rock into the stream, and somehow she'd find the exact one and bring it back out to shore. At the beach, she'd do the same with seashells. Such a funny girl. Until her brain and body would no longer let her, she lived life to the fullest.

This is how I want to remember my girlie: