In February of 2011, my family welcomed a little itty bitty puppy into our arms. We were extremely lucky and fortunate to be the first application to adopt, and immediately upon meeting her said yes. She had been picked up by a rescue called Copper’s Dream, as she had apparently been abandoned on the side of a freeway. Her exact birth date is unknown, but our vet estimated that she was probably born around Christmas time (and we ran with that).

Those who met Sam knew she was quite literally the best dog. I got to grow up with her, through high school and college (as I stayed home for college and commuted). She would always keep me company, through the good times and the bad times. She was scared of everything, but always barked at the door bell (even if it was coming from the TV). Her favorite toys had squeakers, and she liked to tug, but she was also smart enough to recognize when a plushie was mine and not hers. She would beg for treats, and had the prettiest eyes. 

We did a doggie DNA test at one point and it put her top four breeds as German Sheppard, English Coonhound, Papillon, and Chow Chow. And you could definitely see a part of every breed in her.

On March 4th, 2025, my parents made the final decision to say goodbye. After two years of declining health, it was obviously time for Sam. She was no longer eating consistently, couldn’t pick herself back up if she fell down (or laid down), and had a spin of vertigo in early 2024 that prevented her from walking straight after that. My sister came home for the summer and, being that she is a veterinarian, helped convince my parents… 

I couldn’t be there in person to say goodbye due to finances – and ironically I was actually supposed to be in town that exact weekend. And I don’t have many regrets, but not being there to say goodbye to my puppy in person is definitely one of them. My mom called me when they were at the vet, so we were all able to “be” together, but the fact that I didn’t get to rub her fluffy ears that one last time, or boop her on the nose… 

Well, I still have all of the best memories of her. And the vet shaved a small patch of her fur to stuff in little jars for safe-keeping, which I have since received and carry in my clutch (wallet).

I have two stickers in the shop in dedication of Sami. I made them for myself and my family, but I thought I’d offer them in the shop to anybody else that might be interested in wearing a sticker of Sami. While she may now be gone, she will never be forgotten.

Home has always felt like the place where Sami is. And I know it feels much emptier without her. But she will never be forgotten.