5. sammy
I’ve never killed anyone before, I told my dad on our morning walk. How do we do it? I asked knowing he had been through the process once before with Snickers. Our first family dog. We like to say we bought Snickers and saved Sammy. Snickers was a designer dog, a goldendoodle before goldendoodles had goldendoodles. He was one of the originals and he wasn’t cheap. Sammy was plucked from a puppy mill. We weren’t due to get another dog but my grandmother and grandfather-figure, Maria and Tony wanted to get a dog and we knew they couldn’t go alone so my father and I accompanied them. It was easier than I thought to convince my dad to let me bring home a new dog without my mother’s permission. Sammy and Snickers were brothers in arms but they really didn’t like the sight of one another. They were two completely different dogs. Snickers was a hippie. A wanderer with no real intentions. Easily distracted and happiest when roaming aimlessly. Sammy was serious about life, determined. He walked like he was on a mission and always put up a fight to keep us safe in the face of another dog on our path. And let me tell you, I’m glad to finally have a real partner in heaven. I whispered all of my dreams into his white curly haired ears, as he layed on my chest those final days.
When it came time to choose his urn there were two options. The wooden box my parents chose to put Snickers in or the blue ceramic. As the doctor held the brochure open, I told the room I didn’t think Sammy would want to be in the same urn as Snickers. Plus, I thought the ceramic was more his style anyway. He loved the color blue. I let my mother hold him as his heart stopped in the room and she let me pick out the urn. When it was time to place him in the house I took it upon myself to place him on the porch. On the small table in between the lounge chairs and across from where I sit on the couch. I placed him where I could see him every morning as I write to the gods with paper and pen. An incense billows smoke in the space between us and I imagine Sammy sitting on Walt Disney’s lap, conspiring with me from the heavens.
I do not tell anyone where I’ve put him. I do not want it to spark debate. But I do mention to my mother, doesn’t Sammy go great with the porch decor? She tells me she noticed I did that and she lets him stay.
Until one morning, I sit my coffee down. I light the incense. I grab my clipboard and sheets of printer paper and begin to piece together my thoughts and feelings through sentences and words when I look up. Sammy is gone. His urn is missing from the table. I text my mother and she doesn’t know where he is. We discover that my father moved him in the early hours that morning. When confronted, he said he thought Sammy would wanna be next to his brother, upstairs. And forgotten? I ask and remind him they barely got along on earth. He brings him downstairs and Sammy gets put back in his rightful place.
Although, it was resolved quickly, the matter weighed on me heavily. I couldn’t help but wonder, what gave my father the audacity to move him without telling us? At that point, Sammy had been placed. He didn’t accidentally appear on the porch, it was clear his spot had been thoughtfully and intentionally chosen. So for my father to take it upon himself to remove him from the visible every day spot and place him upstairs where no one passes through, without asking or saying anything, was quite curious to me. My mother and I did not make a big deal about it to his face but we certainly did behind his back.
