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SAMUEL
By Margie Culbertson
It was yesterday afternoon. I got out of my car and he was just there. He wasn't alone. But I didn't care. It did appear that the other person was a friend. It wouldn't have mattered anyway.
He was young. Younger than me. But that didn't matter either. I've fallen for objects of affection much younger than I. Yes, they broke my heart. I have no explanation. I simply loved them.
He was eager to meet me. You could tell by looking at him. He slightly vibrated with anticipation as I approached.
I asked his name. Samuel. I was surprised, even though I've known a Sam and a Sammy before. I'd never known a Samuel. But, yes. He was definitely a Samuel. No other name would do.
He was muscular and strong, with long thick black hair, creamy brown eyes, a beautiful smile – and those teeth. My God. He was perfect! I couldn't help myself. I reached out and touched his hair. Then, quickly remembering this was a stranger I had just met, I removed my hand and backed up a step to collect myself.
Regroup, I told myself. Regroup. Behave yourself. You don't even know this gorgeous male.
But then he reached out for me. I immediately took his paw in my hands and leaned down to stroke his ears. He licked my arm. Samuel. Oh Samuel, I love you.
ADDENDUM:
Samuel, who is a puppy of the Newfoundland breed, would like to dedicate this page to his humans, Dave and Ali Fry. He finds it an honor to have them as houseguests. He especially likes the way they let him take them for walks. He asked me, if he gave them water and food and took them for walks everyday, could he keep them? I told him yes.
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©Margie Culbertson
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