An Early Christmas for Samson
by Karla ° Sunday, December 16, 2007
Samson just turned two a few weeks ago, and although he has come a long way in terms of obedience, he is still the exact same epic dynamo of endless energy that he was when he was a pup. Only heavier.

Like, if the cat breathes, Samson’s all, “Hey, it’s alive! Me too! Ok, I’m going to run around table six hundred times and let’s see how often you can swat my big giant dog nose.” Or if Nate breathes, Samson’s all, “Here, let me stick my big giant dog nose in your ear. Repeatedly.” And when you have to go to the bathroom, good ol’ faithful Samson tags along, you know, for moral support.

But after hurting his paw the other day, you would think he would slow down for two nanoseconds and relax. But no, this is Samson we’re talking about; the perpetual motion machine that just does not know how to chill.

I’m not exactly sure what happened, but I’m thinking it must have been from him either running through chunks of icy snow, or during one of his temporary lapses of sanity where he believes he is Superman.

We have three steps leading off of our deck onto the ground, but because Samson does not believe in being graceful or dainty, it is very rare that he uses them. Instead, when the door to the outside world opens, he roars out of the house with a force equal that of a herd of stampeding elephants across the plains of Africa, and when he reaches the edge of the deck, he throws his body into the air and soars all the way to Jupiter, where he goes potty, and then comes home.

I noticed his paw was hurt when was waiting at the door to be let in. A pool of blood had collected near his foot and trailing behind him was a line of mudererous red that wrapped all the way around the BBQ. It totally looked like he had slaughtered a giant mammal and then dragged its carcass in concentric circles around the BBQ in a sacrificial offering to the Gods of propane. But really, he was probably pacing because he was in pain.

Because Samson’s status in this family has been officially upgraded to Big Yellow Vacuum of Floor Cheese and Everything Else That Nate Tosses from his Highchair, he’s put on a bit of pudge, and is now pushing 90lbs. So when I brought him inside to try and stop the bleeding and apply a bit of peroxide to the wound, he totally kicked my ass in what could have very well been the wresting match of the century.

To my own defence, Samson cheated and transformed his body into a big giant strand of squirmy spaghetti; which is how I ended up with a bruised eye.

God, I'm such a wimp. This is why I put the cone on his head - to humiliate him and show him who's boss.

But then a few days later, his dewclaw was a still a brilliant shade of red, a bit swollen, and quite obviously, still very sore. Even though Dr. Google assured me that he would not die, I decided to take him to the vet just to make sure.

It turns out that he didn’t actually rip the nail clean off; it was more like it lifted and tore away from the delicate nerve tissue underneath. This makes me little weak in the knees for two reasons, the first being how painful that must be, and the second being the vet bill.

I guess this means that Christmas came early for Samson.

He got antibiotics for an infected dewclaw, antibiotics for an ear infection and because he’s been such a good boy this year, a thermometer shoved up his ass for good measure.

I hope he liked it.


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this is one of my favorite posts i've read of yours! too funny. i too have a doggie-vaccuum/mop/floor licker...gotta love not having to clean up the floors around the highchair!

p.s. the fact that labs don't ever grow out of the puppy-isn't-life-fantastic stage is the reason i love them!
Posted by Blogger joyce :  December 16, 2007

Too funny...However I think I will leave the dog stuff to you...I doubt I would have the patience for the lovable labs...

Posted by Anonymous Anonymous :  December 16, 2007

Poor Samson! My Jack Russell HATES the thermometer. He squeals like you're raping him or something (which, I suppose, we sort of are when we stick the offensive object in his bum- poor guy).

Hope Samson's better soon... he seems like such a character!
Posted by Blogger Kelly :  December 16, 2007

I guess he's hoping that Christmas doesn't bother to show next year.


Not to laugh at poor Sampson's violations, but you tell a good story ;)
Posted by Blogger Angella :  December 16, 2007

Aw, poor guy! I'm sure if you give him some extra cheese, he'll forget all about the unpleasantness that is the thermometer ;)
Posted by Blogger M :  December 16, 2007

Ouchie!!! That hurts to think about it.

Jack tries to wag his tail when they're taking his temperature. What do you think that means?
Posted by Blogger Julia :  December 17, 2007

My sympathy for the vet bill. My dog has been to the vet 3 weeks in a row, and still has another appointment this weekend because of an ear infection that will not end. Christmas not only came early for her, but has trumped Christmas for the rest of the family.
Posted by Anonymous Olivia :  December 17, 2007


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