Sam

I remember the day we went to pick up Sam. He was the runt of the littler and the last puppy left. He was caked with mud and covered in fleas. We found out he was born on July 4th and I jokingly said "We should call him Uncle Sam!", And the name stuck. I remember how he was deathly scared of thunder, our hard wood floors, and would freak out walking over the wooden walk bridge in our city park. He would light up at the jingle of my truck keys, and would wag his tail so hard, I thought he would put a hole in the sheetrock. I remember the day he reminded me of Lassie trying to tell someone that Timmy Had fallen into the well, except his excitement was over a baby squirrel that had fallen out of a tree. A squirrel my daughter and I was able to nurse back to health and take it to a squirrel sanctuary. And I remember the day I got the call that Sam was hit and killed by a car. It was one of the saddest days of my life.  I will remember Sam until the day I die. And when I do, maybe I'll just take Sam for a ride through heaven in my pickup truck, and of course I'll have his window down.

Tools: ballpoint pen, white gel pen, on smooth Bristol.