Sam lived with us for four years. We found him at the Humane Society he was seven when we adopted him. When Hannah died I made a list of all the things I wanted in our next dog. I didn't want a puppy, I wanted a well trained dog, etc.
The list was lengthy and detailed. The Sunday I walked into the Humane Society was the last day I was going to put myself through the process of looking for a dog for us. There he was, in the first cage, leaning against the wire looking up at me. There was an instant bond. That's not to say that Sam and I didn't have our issues. The one thing I didn't put on the list was NO ANXIETY ISSUES.
Sam had plenty of those when we brought him home. For two years he went everywhere with me. Often when he was sitting in the front seat, facing forward, looking very much like I was driving him around, he would glance over at me with an expression on his face that seemed to say, "You aren't my former owner." I think I was a disappointment for Sam but John wasn't.
Sam went to work with John and did "meet and greet" with the clients. He hung out with the secretaries during lunch break and shared pizza and gossip. He checked on everybody and when he found an office that had sun streaming in the window he would just lie down and take a nap.
He died last week. He is missed. He was a good dog.