Writers’ Corner: ‘Samson, The Alaskan Malamute’
Being afraid of dogs came after a German Shepherd knocked me off my two-wheeler when I was six years old. However, before my college graduation, a boyfriend’s mother, who trained dogs, explained many canine behaviors to me. Even though I’m still a dyed-in-the-wool cat person, I’ve learned to appreciate some canine attributes.
My then-husband, Doug, and I had just moved to Germany when a church family said they were looking for a dog-sitter for two weeks. Doug and I didn’t have any children living with us, so we might be the only couple who could help.
We moved into the family’s apartment to make it easier on Samson, the 75-pound Alaskan Malamute. Before the family went vacationing, the mother told me three things about Samson: he probably wouldn’t eat anything for the first three days after they left; he goes berserk when anyone says “walk”; and, he has nipped at children, so don’t bring any into the apartment. The husband, wife, and their five teenagers then went off to Italy.
My husband took Samson out for a walk/run every morning and night in the brisk early spring air. I took Samson out for mid-day walks and talked to him frequently each day.
The first surprise was Samson never quit eating. I had no idea why.
The second surprise was even though the mother said he had been obedience-trained, Samson was a handful on my walks with him. If he saw something interesting, he would charge with wild abandon in that direction. I, on the other hand, had to brace my entire weight against the curb to thwart Samson’s pure-muscled attempt for total freedom!
At night when insomnia hit, I’d get up and roam to another comfortable spot to read myself back to sleep. Each night, Samson followed me from our bedroom to wherever I went, even if I moved four times.
Midweek, Samson got wet on our walk. As beautiful as Samson was with his striking Alaskan Malamute black and white markings, he smelled like he had never had a bath in his entire life! I immediately bought doggy shampoo and conditioner for his long hair.
It took both of us to wrangle Samson into the tub. In the end, some of his hair was on the ceiling! I used my hairdryer on him some, but took breaks because this dog would be perfectly comfortable sleeping in the snow. After finishing drying and brushing Samson, I filled two large old-fashioned paper bags with his hair. Samson was shedding his undercoat during that early spring.
The second week was, surprisingly, identical to the first, including getting wet again during one walk and stinking to high heaven, followed by a bath and another two full bags of dog hair.
When the family returned, the mother was astounded at the softness of Samson’s coat, saying it was just like it was when he was a puppy. Four days later, she called me and said, “Seriously, what did you do? Samson didn’t eat for three days after you guys left.”
When we get a dog, he isn’t just part of our family ... we are part of his pack, where every member is equally important. If he is partially forgotten, he will welcome even this cat-person’s attention and reciprocate double or more.
Author’s tip: If an upcoming season stirs memories, there may be a good story hiding there.
Author’s bio: Kathi grew up with cats. After college, she started studying the differences between dog breeds. Frankly, she never would have taken on any dog-sitting without her ex-husband’s knowledge of dogs, so they made a good team in this story.
Sturgis Writers’ Mill is a community of writers who constructively encourage, support and challenge each other as they discover their unique voices. Any opinion expressed is solely that of the author.
This article originally appeared on Sturgis Journal: opinion
