When I was a child…
My parents must have wanted me to be a dog person. We didn’t have a pet for the first three years of my life (We did get a goldfish for a brief 24 hour period, who was lovingly named ‘Goldie’ but that hadn’t lasted long)
My parents did tell me they had a dachshund named Frank before I was born, but got rid of him because he was a mean dog.
My parents were dog people though, so by the time I was three, they must have decided they wanted me to grow up with a dog.
So, for my third birthday we went to the house of a dog breeder, who bred Golden Retrievers. I was excited, because there was a fenced in area with a whole bunch of fuzzy puppies running around and I thought I’d get to choose my own.
But before I could walk up to the fence and pick my soul mate, the lady was back and I turned and she already had a puppy in her arms. She told me this puppy would be going home with me.
I was a little disappointed because I had wanted a girl puppy and this one was a boy. But, I decided that any puppy would do, and this one looked pretty fluffy anyways.
I knew that the puppy needed a name, so before we got home, I had a bunch of names already whirling around inside my 3-year-old brain.
Should we call him… Goldie… no that was goldfishie’s name… Cookie?…no someone might try to eat him…
“Flashlight!” I exclaimed finally
“What?” My mom replied.
“His name should be Flashlight” I answered enthusiastically “Or tiny”
But after discussion, my parents did not go along with my hard thought out names, but convinced me that “Sampson” was a much more suitable name for this dog.
I ended up agreeing.
I suppose he ended up with that name because Sampson in the Bible was strong and brave, however this dog could not have been more the opposite.
Retrievers love water, right? Not this one!
We tried to bathe him or throw him in my foot deep kiddie pool a few times, but he would run away with his tail between his legs.
He was also afraid of cats, once my dad took him out to the garage to chase away a cat that had gotten in and instead of chasing out the cat, he tucked his tail between his legs and pooped on the floor.
It’s just occurred to me now that this dog and I had some things in common, we both had some strangely irrational fears.
Anyways, besides Sampson’s strange fears as a retriever, he was an incredibly friendly dog, like retrievers are supposed to be.
He would let me or my cousins lay on his back like he was a pillow when we were watching T.V.
Unfortunately only 4 years later, we had to give him up, but that’s another story.