Dear Sam

~400 words. 2 minute read.

Dear Sam,

We named you after Sam Seaborn of ‘The West Wing’, but for the ten years that you were with us, I always thought that you were more like Sam the Hobbit, Frodo’s loyal helper on his journey through Middle Earth - never leaving his side, caring for Frodo every step of the way, even carrying him when he couldn’t go on.

You were so pure that nothing on our perilous journey could ever affect your spirit or your soul. No poison, no anger, no greed, no jealousy, no fear, no guilt, no frustration, no helplessness. Only love.

Steadfast in your resolve to be a companion, a friend, an angel with a mission that we mere mortals couldn’t possibly fathom, your canine spirit always offered up a deeper understanding of our trials and tribulations and you healed us every day. Your healing quite literally started our family. Your companionship was a never-ending source of strength when life dealt us a poor hand. And never did you draw any attention to your own trials and tribulations.
Sam, the ultimate, prototypical, meaning-giving friend and companion.

But then a twisted turn of fate, a trick that only the universe can play:
When we stood at the shores of the Great Sea together it was you who boarded the ship to the undying lands of Valinor. Suddenly the roles were reversed: You were the hero. You had been the one carrying the weight of the world all along, and it had finally tired you out. I guess you knew that your mission was complete. That you had set us up for the rest of our lives. Your help and guidance through the dangerous part was done. You must’ve figured that we could take it from here.
I know that you had insight into the divine plan, and so I am going to take your word for it.

As I am writing this, you are repeating the great successes of your tug-of-war and fetch career on legs that never tire and never hurt, on stadium lawns that are bathed in eternal sunlight. And every day brings us closer together - until I can finally soothe the bizarre pain in my palms that comes from not being able to touch your velvety ears and your silky coat.

‘Sam – what’s this?’

Love forever,

René