A Visit From Sam

While typing on a story the other day I heard a familiar jingling sound. Shortly thereafter a ginger colored dog jogged through the office. A dog. In the office.

"I know you," the woman next to me said. "You're Sam."

Sam wagged her whole body as my colleague petted her. After a little bit Sam went around and said hello, even to the sports reporter who doesn't really like dogs.

But Sam really isn't like most dogs. No drool or bad breath. No jumping up on people. No bad behavior. When she gets slightly too interested in something she shouldn't be interested in her owner, Paul, says, "Sam," and she goes back to him.

Paul came in to pass the time, say hello and place an ad. Sam came along for company. She wore a leash but it was only a foot long. The Village has a leash law, but Paul has protested it. Sam never runs off or misbehaves. She's good company and never gets into trouble. Why leash a dog like that? The city said she still had to wear a leash. So she does. A ridiculously short leash. The cops all know Sam and Paul. They just shake their heads and look the other way. Paul pointed out that the dog has a leash, but he will never need to restrain her. Sam's happy with that compromise.

A visit from Sam is one of those things I will miss when we move. People in this Village will miss that kind of interaction, as well.

A little while later Paul and Sam returned. He asked if she could hang out with us for a few minutes while he visited a not-so-dog-friendly office down the street.

Of course, we said. We like the dog. Even the sports guy admitted that Sam's not so bad - for a dog.

TARB