I know that this is a bit off-message, but several people recently asked me about my little man, Samson.

I recently returned from 7 days with the family in Florida. My first stop – picking up the puppy from the kennel. He loves the kennel technicians and the opportunity to play with other dogs.  I probably miss him more than he misses me.  Yet, his tail was wagging as they brought him out to me.

I acquired Samson in March 2006 at the tender age of 5 months (rough estimate from the vet at the time).   When I say acquired I actually mean that I permanently borrowed him from my neighbors who were abusing him.   I was still living in the badlands near Bridge and Pratt (Frankford Terminal, Philadelphia, PA).  My neighbors moved in just a few months prior – woman with quite a few children, her father with an ankle monitoring devise, and more than half a dozen early 20something guys living on the third floor.

I decided to play hooky from work one morning. My plan was to catch up on sleep. But, you know what they say about best laid plans. Things never turn out the way you plan then.

I woke up at 6am to a dog yelping and was unable to fall back asleep. I finally got dressed to investigate. As I walked out my back door, I found this small, terrified puppy tied to the back wall of my neighbors house.  He had no food or water and was shivering. I knocked on my neighbors door, but received no answer.

My partner came downstairs (now ex) to give him some food and water. We eventually called the police. When the officer arrived he informed us that if the puppy is taken into custody he would most likely be put to sleep. He was a dog lover – had a pibble breed of his own. He told us that while we were not legally able to take him, he would look the other way.

So, we acquired him, took him to the vet for a checkup and adopted him into our family. It felt like a covert operation, as we snuck him in and out of the house for the first 90 days. I stopped worrying once he was altered and chipped.

He clearly had the signs of abuse. He was malnourished and had bite marks on his torso. Nevertheless, he became extremely affectionate fairly quickly.  He put on weight and is the king of the castle – well, at least my home.  He runs the ship. I merely write the checks.

Now, more than two years later, he is my cuddle love bucket. He is healthy and full of energy.  He constantly keeps me on my toes. He loves pestering my cat. The scabbes on his nose are proof of the cat’s returned love gesture. He gives off the best nap vibes and is an efficient feet warmer. He loves pizza crust and beer.