Samantha Longboard

After the dust finally settles on the Topanga Days Parade, we have just one dog left; funny Dora, the one that Tom predicated isn't going anywhere. Perhaps he is right, I worry; maybe nobody will want such an odd-looking creature. I load her up in the car and take her home with me. I assure Tom that I will have her a homed in a matter of days and I get to work at once, making calls and sending emails. I upload her funny mug to Facebook and beg everyone to share.

Sammie in the snow.

In the meantime, Dora makes herself comfortable in our house with Tom and our other dogs. She is an alpha in a calm way. No need for growling or scene- making. This dog gets what she wants with a minimum of effort. My dogs move over and make room for the pushy newcomer, although Maggie is not very happy about it. She is clearly a little put out by her sudden demotion from top dog, and for some reason she blames Tom for this and gives him the cold shoulder for several days.

Sammie at the Beach

In our house the pack has figured out that Tom is the one to impress. I feed them, walk them and pick up the poop, but if Tom and I should come home together they practically knock me over in their efforts to greet him. In their minds I am merely the help, and, actually, I am fine with that. Dora is no different, she locks onto to Tom at once, shamelessly throwing herself at him at every opportunity and making it clear in her quiet but forceful way, he is all hers.

Tom is flattered and amused, but mostly struck by her similarities to his beloved Jack. The personalities, body language, and even their body shape are so alike it is uncanny. We decide the name Dora just doesn't suit her and Tom suggests we rename her Sammie, I like it, and add that her full name should be Samantha Longboard, which we agree suits her very well. We are both starting to fall in love with her and find it hard to resist her demands. So naturally, we end up giving her whatever she wants which includes sleeping in bed with us.

Saturday morning, five days after the parade, I get a call from a neighbor, she tells me excitedly that she has a friend that really wants Dora and can take her today. I hang up the phone, look at Tom and say bleakly, "Sammie has a home." We stare at each other, knowing we should be happy, but we suddenly realize how much we will miss her if she goes. Tom looks at Sammie, looks at me, and says, "Too late, we're keeping her; Sammie isn't going anywhere."