Since everyone seems to be saying goodbyes as we don’t know who’ll make the next jump to where, I figured I’d share a story about how I ended up with the hellhusky known as Sammy.
It was the end of last December and my coworker and I were responding to an incident on our local reserve. As we’re standing outside, this lovely and sweet husky comes limping up to me. For those who have never been to a First Nations reserve in Saskatchewan, there are dogs everywhere. Some owned, some not, but generally they just kind of roam.
Anyway, this husky had a snare line around her left paw and was limping pretty badly. She came right up to me, but when I went to look at her paw, she took off. A local homeowner came by, and I asked if it was hers. She said no (funny how dogs aren’t owned the moment some semblance of responsibility shows up), said the dog had been like that for three days, and asked if we’d kill it. I obviously said no, as I had other things to tend to, and really, I wasn’t going to kill this dog. But she stayed in the back of my mind after that.
A week later, I was back at that homeowner’s residence, and lo and behold, the husky was outside, still snared, her paw swelled pretty badly. I knocked on the door, watched some people take off from the living room to the back of the house, and was left hanging.
I made some phone calls to a local vet, Animal Protection in Saskatoon, and my boss, and while I waited, gave some spare dog food to her, which she wolfed down. The Animal Protection officer said they’d clear the animal being seized as a welfare concern and set up an emergency surgery for the line. So I walked over, picked up the dog (who let out a small whimper) and took her back to my truck.
She rode around with me for the afternoon, just kind of hanging out, until I was cleared to drive to the nearest vet (an hour away). My boss and I got talking about a name for the dog, and much in the vein of Perry, we agreed on Sam Steele.
Off we went to the vet, who gladly took her in, and found out that she was Samantha. I took my photos and went back home.
We never found out who her owners were. They never filed a complaint of a missing animal (probably because they knew they’d be criminally charged for neglecting an animal).
But she stayed in the back of my mind. A month and a half later, I saw she was up for adoption at a shelter, and was going by Myah. A few weeks passed, no one took her. A few more, still nothing.
So in early March I went to go see her. And she was so lovely and playful. The bio said she was quiet, though she immediately howled at me. Maybe she remembered me. I don’t know.
A week after that, and wondering if I was making a mistake after the last mess with my ex and a dog, I picked her up and renamed her Sammy.
Nearly eight months, several hundreds of dollars in damages, many lost potatoes, numerous walks, hikes and trips since, it wasn’t a mistake.
Thanks for reading.