365 Days of Sammy
Samson & Delilah, aka Handsome Samson and Monster Face
Back in 2021 we had to say goodbye to our beloved dog, Samson, not even a year after losing his sister, Delilah. This is a loss that affects me far more than I ever imagined it would.
I have lost uncles, grandparents, and even my own father, and like anyone else would, I have mourned their losses. I most recently wrote about the 10th anniversary of my father’s passing.
When Sammy passed the loss was different, greater. Maybe it’s because I am a “dog person” and perhaps other dog people will agree, the closest thing I could imagine it to be like is losing a child. Now, I have never lost a child and I do not want to experience that Nth level of grief ever in my life, so please be patient with me and give me a moment to explain.
There is a natural order to things. As a child when death is still a foreign concept you will either lose a great grandparent or grandparent, or someone you know will, so the concept becomes known. As you get older you come to recognize and accept these things: people get older and eventually die. Unless you die before them you are sure to lose family members that are older than you.
This does not mean that the pain and grief are diminished, but it is expected.
A parent should never bury a child, but sadly, it happens far too often.
What I mean is that the loss of a cherished pet is somewhat akin to losing a child in that you are responsible for this creature, this family member, they are dependent on you. In our case, we adopted both of our dogs, first Samson, and later Delilah, and made a choice to love and care for them. Say what you will about the term, but yes, they were our “fur kids” and we adored and treated them as such.
Though we did not spawn him, we adopted him and his sister. They were ours. We were theirs.
So, no, losing a pet is not the same as losing a child, but there are similarities that I feel, in my mourning, to be akin.
Shortly after his passing, perhaps the very next day, even, I launched an Instagram project called “365 Days of Sammy.” It was to be my visual eulogy to the dog that we loved, but also a way to fill the hole in heart from not being able to see my lovely friend anymore.
The plan was to post a unique picture of Samson every day for a year, and for months I did this. There were a couple of gaps early on, but I often made up for those. I continued to post nearly daily for several months.
Here is the first post:I noticed that we were getting every closer to that one year mark and it became harder emotionally to post. I missed him too much and it was taking an emotional toll on me knowing that I would have to say goodbye to him again very soon.
The posts stopped.
We’re now not too far off from the third anniversary of his passing and I see that really, I am less than 20 pictures away from hitting 365.
What was supposed to be 365 contiguous posts of Samson has now become a virtual memorial to the best dog in the world that yes, will one day (hopefully soon) contain 365 pictures of him. I don’t know if they will be daily, or even weekly, but I’ve been finding more pictures of him that I haven’t yet posted so I am thinking it may be time to honor my old friend by completing his internet shrine.
Today’s post:This project really doesn’t mean much to anyone other than me, and that’s just fine.
We all deal with grief in our own way. I can’t draw, I can’t sculpt, I can’t write a song, hell, I can barely write a decent blog post, but I can post cute pictures of the handsomest dog in the world and remember him fondly.
I love you, Sammy. We’ll see more of you soon.
© 2024 Michael A. Diaz
