A Plea for a Great Dog

Today, I'm praying for my sister's dog.

Sam was old and in bad shape when my sister found him four years ago, or more accurately, he showed up and decided she was his owner.  He's blind, mostly deaf, fat and slow.  He is also a large furry beloved to her family.  Samwise (his full name) lives up to his Tolkien namesake. He stays, he's loyal, and he means to for all time.   Sam suffers through toddlers who love him deeply as only toddlers can (and all that that sort of love entails).  He also is simply a simple comfort and has been a friend during difficult and lonely dark times, as only the best dogs are. 

Samwise remains the only canine my oldest son has ever thought awesome. Dogs are allergic to my son. They see him and start barking.  I'm not sure why, but I know it has been true ever since he was 5 and a neighbor friend's adopted dog jumped into our minivan and scared the bejeebers out of him.  After that, stray dogs began following us in parking lots, zeroing in on him.  He's never been bitten, but he can see their hostility and it is decidedly evident to everyone else. Sam was and remains the exception, and Sam is now very sick. 

So we're praying to Saint Francis, who loves old dogs that gratefully thump their tails with all the energy it requires for a few pats and can give you the understanding look that only truly good and old dogs can give, that shows an empathy that surpasses the ages and a "You're still here?" bewilderment at the same time. 

I'm hoping Sam has a bit more time to spend with his family here because it's never a good time to say goodbye to a true and loyal pet.  So if you don't mind the littleness of this request (and I know there are plenty of harder worse things in the world to pray about), I'm asking for a quick petition, because the world is hard enough, and the blunter sharper edges are made better when dogs like Sam are still here, lying on the rug, thumping his tail.