For the love of Samantha

This morning I read a moving poem, written by a woman who had just lost her dear Vizsla friend, Samantha. Tears streamed down my face as I read her description of the white muzzle, soft fur, and soulful eyes. So many times my heart has skipped a beat and I've had to catch my breath when I have looked into Eve's precious graying face and realized that I will have to say good bye to her someday. The poem was especially moving to me when I learned about the circumstances of Samantha's adoption.

"My daughter Nikole suffered from an eating disorder when she took in Samantha at age 12. Sami needed to be re homed because her owners were in their 90's, ill and moving into an nursing home. But in turned out that Samantha rescued Nikole:"

Poem for Samantha
Skyway Chatterbox CD, NA
November 2, 1991 - September 24, 2006

"Samantha"

I remember the very first day we met.
I remember the hour.
I remember the minute.
I remember the moment.
It was a warm, golden afternoon
and a wonderful, hopeful day.
Full of hope for me.
Full of hope for you.
I saw you across the room,
a beautiful mix of white
swilred with red.
As soon as you noticed me,
standing there for you,
bounding across the floor you came.
An old, beautiful white muzzle and soft fur,
peppered with freckles and two soulful eyes.
You leaped up and kissed me a thousand times over
with the energy and pep
of a pup half your age.
I knew from that moment
we were meant for one another.
I would save you.
You would save me.
We needed each other.
I needed you more than you could have possibly known.
You became my reason
for getting up in the morning.
You were the reason,
to go outside and play in the sun.
Because of you I felt whole again
and everything that kept me alive
was in your kind spirit.
I loved watching you doze off
with your little, pink, wet tongue
peeking out.
The cute little snores you would make
would soothe me to sleep.
The way that you grunted and chattered
when you were excited,
I couldn't help but pat your head
and smile from ear to ear.
Your face was so soft and so snowy white
and had I closed my eyes,
I could have sworn it to be velvet.
Long walks were something you loved;
running in that park while I playfully chased after you,
sniffing everything within your path.
When you slept at the my feet at night
I would bundle you up in blankets
and I would feel so safe,
so warm,
so loved.
I hope you did too.
You enjoyed going to the windows to look outside
and then walking through the curtains
having the material itch your back for you
as you walked on through.
I would laugh with joy when you would do your running leap
to get up on the sofa
to snuggle up and take a nap.
When you started getting thin,
losing too much weight,
refusing to eat,
my heart started to break.
I made you scrambled eggs, cream cheese bagels,
veggie burgers, chicken nuggets,
and your favourite, peanut butter sandwiches,
anything you could have wanted,
but still you would not eat.
I needed you to eat.
I would carry your fragile body up and down the stairs,
so we could still sleep together
bundled up in blankets and warmth.
I took you outside every hour for fresh air
and peace of mind
until you became too tired,
too weak,
to go out that much.
I watched as you withered away to nothing but skin and bones,
but still, you had those gorgeous, soulful eyes.
You started to sleep a lot, no energy to go for the long walks
that you had loved so much.
You became too delicate for me to carry up the stairs,
so I slept downstairs with you everynight instead.
When the hour was apon you,
I felt it
and it made my whole body ache with sorrow.
Together we found a dark, quiet place for you to try and rest.
You went to the window
and walked through the curtains one last time,
then you layed down.
I layed there with you.
You tried to get comfortable
and I could see your chest struggle to fill with breath;
your panting, short and shallow.
I stroked your sweet face and kissed your damp, little, freckled nose.
Still, you tried to be comfortable.
You looked at me one last time
and rested your head in the palm of my hand.
I petted your head and shoulders,
listening to your breath get less
and less.
I have never felt so helpless in my life,
watching my baby struggle for for her own.
I wanted so desperately to help you,
breathe for you,
but there was nothing I could do.
I choked back my hot tears
and told you "I love you",
"Don't be scared",
"I love you Sam".
I must have said it a thousand times,
but I still could have said it a thousand more.
We layed there on the floor,
your velvet soft head in my hand
and I watched you try,
try so hard to take air in your lungs.
I watched as the last gasp came
and then, no more.
My love, my joy, my reason for living, my everything, my baby
was gone.
I held you,
still soft, still warm
and I couldn't believe it.
I kept waiting,
waiting for you to get up.
I waited for you to wake
so we could go outside and play.
You never got up.
I now know what a broken heart feels like,
but I hope,
someday she will kiss my face again
and we will run through the grass.
She will nuzzle her face in my chest
and my heart will be together again.

9/24/2006
Nikole T. Zelneronok

Nikole, my heart goes out to you, as well as my thoughts and prayers. Those of us who have loved a Vizsla know the loss you are experiencing. Rest in peace Samantha.

Published by permission