Part Two of Three — A Tribute to Sam

My Loyal Dog Sam Saved Me — Part 2

It was out of my control, but the shame was unbearable

This three-part story is a tribute to my beloved Sam. He’s passed on now, but he’ll always remain my angel. He’s a hero in my Memoir: Silent Fright and he saved me from my abuser more than once.

Part two of my tribute to Sam is a difficult story to tell because the horrible memories still make me cringe today. The shame I experienced around his mistreatment overshadows all of the abuse I suffered at the hands of my ex-husband.

If you missed part one of my tribute to Sam, here it is again.

Things at work were frantic when a call came in that shattered my day.

The angry voice on the line was Chad, and his words shook me to the core. Although it had been nearly 5 months since I’d escaped my abusive husband, he continued to torture me.

“Come get your stupid f*#king dog today, Christie! He’s barfing all over the carpet, and smells so bad I have to leave him outside 24–7.” — Chad

In chapter #21 of my memoir — Facing the Music, my detailed exit plan to leave Chad exploded in my face. It ended with me escaping with nothing but the shoes on my feet and a few things thrown in a suitcase.

When I went back to pick Sam up a week later, Chad wouldn’t allow it.

Sam became a pawn for his childish attempts to keep me under his thumb and locked in an abusive marriage. At first, fear for my own well being kept me away from the house. As his tactics escalated, however, I remained on the move and hiding out with friends made it impossible for me to care for Sam.

My most important goal, once I resettled, was to get Sam back. Even if that meant breaking into my own home, I’d been locked out of months prior.

When Chad’s call came in, I was reluctant to ask too many questions in case he changed his mind. His plan to return Sam had to remain his idea and in his best interest, or it wouldn’t happen.

I couldn’t believe it! I was about to get my Sammy back!

Although I was thrilled the day had finally arrived, I couldn’t have imagined what was coming next.

My heart stopped when I saw Sam for the first time in 5 months…

Here’s a peek at Chapter # 31 — Come Get Your Dog

As I pulled into the driveway, I felt a fresh rush of adrenaline. Sam was tied in the yard at the side of the garage.

I had imagined he wouldn’t look good but was in no way prepared for what I saw. He stood immediately as I pulled in, and I wasn’t sure if I would punch something in anger or have a complete breakdown.

He’d lost so much weight, and his once-luxurious coat was all but gone. Nothing left but stubble and red, raw sores where he’d been chewing on his paws. His back was spotted with bald patches and flaky skin.

He stood still, staring as I got out of the car, not making a sound, his tail tucked between his legs. As I approached him, his tail began a slow wag, and he lifted his head a little higher, sniffing the air.

Once I got closer, and he was sure it was me, he jumped, yelping and pulling on his lead to get to me. The only thing I was sure of at that moment was that whatever cruelty he’d suffered, it hadn’t broken his spirit . . .his eyes told me that.

As sick as his body looked, Sam’s undeniably sweet, lovable soul was alive and well, and he was delighted to see me!

Guilt rushed over me, and I began to beat myself up mentally about not getting there sooner. How could I have been so selfish and not called the cops on the fucking idiot?

But I really hadn’t thought Chad could be this cruel to an animal. He really was a sick bastard. I decided to focus on the moment; there would be plenty of time to punish myself later once Sam was safe.

Checking him over more carefully, I heard tires crunching on gravel behind me. I spun around in a panic, and Sam let out a sharp bark. Relief spread through me when I realized it was just Matthew pulling into the driveway.

I was so darn skittish; it was maddening. As Matthew got out of the car and walked toward us, he asked, “Well, is he OK?”

No answer was required because he could see for himself that he wasn’t. “Oh my God, Christie, what has that stupid loser done to this poor dog?” I stood quietly and watched as he petted Sam and checked him over.

My brother turned then and gave me a big hug. “Christie, you’re looking a bit rough yourself, are you OK?” he asked kindly.

“I’m fine, but my poor Sam . . . look at him!”

Matthew knelt and called Sam to his side. Sam obliged, skulking over slowly with his head lowered. “The guy just needs the shit beaten out of him!” Matthew repeated.

As we collected Sam’s things from the garage, I took in the whole scene. You could see where Sam had been digging in the dirt and worn paths where he’d obviously been pacing back and forth at the end of his lead.

There was shit everywhere; Sam had so little length on the rope that he wasn’t able to avoid his own waste anymore. No wonder he smelled so bad.

A large dish of dirty water by the garage door was evidence that Chad had been filling it with a hose. While Sam wandered around the yard and relieved himself, we packed up what we could and laid blankets across the backseat.

The rest of the day was a roller coaster ride of emotion. The trip to the vet was horrific. How anyone can harm a defenceless animal is beyond my comprehension.

Things took a turn for the worse for me that afternoon. I didn’t think I could hate Chad more than I already did, but I was wrong…

To Be Continued — Watch for Part #3 of a Tribute to Sam — coming soon!

Here’s Part #3 of my Tribute to Sam, so you don’t miss it…

I’m Liz, the self-empowered, red wine & coffee lovin’, personal growth fanatic behind this article. I’ve stopped shrinking into places I’ve outgrown, and I’m a fan of straight talk and practical solutions. That’s why I’m here to Empower, Educate and Entertain.