Saving Sam and Other Dog Tales

Saving Sam and Other Dog Tales

A

collection

of

short stories

By

Linda Lewis

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2018 Linda Lewis

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

All rights reserved. Any unauthorised broadcasting, public performance, copying or recording will constitute an infringement of copyright. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review

Printed in the United Kingdom

First Printing, 2018 Alfie Dog Limited

The author can be found at: authors@alfiedog.com

Published by

Alfie Dog Limited

Rose Bank, Norton Lindsey,

Warwickshire, CV35 8JQ

Tel: 07712 647754

Dedication

to all dog lovers, wherever they may be

Contents

A message from the author

Saving Sam

Searching for Brian

House Sitting

Lassie

The Dog Show

Sixth Sense

Dognapped

A Dog for Valentine’s Day

A Shaggy Dog Story

Life Lessons

My Worst Nightmare

Helping Bella

Cuddles, Muddles and Puddles

New Tricks

Undefeated

It’s Me or Susie

Boxer

Sharing Spot

Lost

The Dog Whisperer

About the Author

A message from the author

Dogs have been part of my life for as long as I can remember. My parents had dogs. I can see them now - Bobby, Trixie, Sam, and finally, another Trixie.

During my fourth marriage, I became joint owner of my husband’s Alsatian, but have never dared to keep a dog myself. Instead, I borrow other people’s. While I lived in Leeds, I was registered with the Council as a dog boarder, taking care of pets when their owners went on holiday.

Those were such amazing times, filled with a lot of laughter as well as a few tears.

I lost my heart to the first dog who boarded with me. His name was Milo and he was a ten-year- old springer spaniel who loved to be groomed. I spent ages every night, brushing him, losing myself in the process. He and his friend, Leah (a Samoyed with no personality whatsoever), stayed with me for seventeen days. I cried buckets when he had to go home.

A few weeks later, his owner gave me another booking for later in the year. I was so happy, I could hardly wait to see Milo again, but it never happened because he died. I cried as though he was my own dog. That’s what animals do. They get into your hearts.

When I was dog boarding, I had several favourites. Top of the list was Louis, a hefty chocolate Labrador, who was the only dog allowed on my bed. He loved to play fight. Which often involved my arm being in his mouth. Goodness knows how I didn’t get hurt. He had a fine set of teeth.

Then there was Woody, a miniature Dachshund. He came to stay several times, with his dear friend, an utterly brainless, water loving, lithe, black Labrador called Snoopy.

Woody liked deep thoughts and cuddles, whilst Snoopy was as mad as two hatters. Both dogs were neutered but that didn’t stop Snoopy humping his bed. He’d stagger round the room, hanging on to it, giving it everything he had. After a while, Woody would join in, making a doggy conga. I have never laughed so much in my life. How I wish I had taken photos.

As you read, you will find that some of my favourite dogs feature in my stories.

I gave up boarding pets when I moved back down to Exeter, Nowadays, when I need some canine company, I visit www.borrowmydoggy.com instead.

It’s an amazing resource where dog owners can arrange to meet up with people like me who want to borrow their dogs for walks, or play, company or for weekend or holiday cover.

In this collection, you will notice that rescue centres feature quite often. Sadly, you can no longer go along and see a whole range of dogs and pick the one that connects with you. I think this is a shame as I find it very hard to choose a pet from a photo. For me, it’s all about having a connection and that can only happen, face to face which probably explains why I’ve had no luck at internet dating…

I have been writing stories for magazines since 2003 and have sold hundreds to a whole range of titles including The People’s Friend, My Weekly, Woman’s Weekly and Take a Break as well as winning prizes in various competitions.

One day, I hope to own my own dog, maybe even two. Or better still, meet a lovely man who already has dogs, but until then, I will continue to feature them in my short stories.

I hope you enjoy reading the collection as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Linda Lewis

Twitter @writingiseasy

www.vnlwritespace.com

SAVING SAM

Molly had never seen so many loveable animals. The dog rescue centre had every kind of dog from tiny Yorkies to gigantic Irish wolfhounds, plus everything in between. It was going to be very hard to choose.

Do any of them appeal to you? the girl asked.

All of them. Molly laughed. How does anyone ever decide?

The girl grinned. I’m lucky. I get to spend time with all of them. I don’t have to choose.

As they turned the last corner, Molly stopped. A black dog was curled up at the back of one of the runs. From what she could see, it was part Border collie and part Labrador, with a bit of spaniel thrown in. Here boy, she called, but the dog didn’t move, not even an ear twitched.

What’s his name? she asked.

Sam.

Come on, Sam. Molly clapped her hands but still the dog stayed put. What’s wrong with him? Is he ill?

No, poor thing. He’s feeling fed up.

What do you mean, fed up?

He’s been back and forth too many times.

You mean people have taken him home, and then changed their minds?

It’s not that simple, the girl explained. She pulled Molly away from the dog’s run. He came here when his first owner died - there’s nothing unusual about that – but then his new owner also died.

That’s just bad luck, isn’t it? asked Molly.

We thought so, but then it happened again.

Really?

Poor Sam’s gained a bit of a reputation. She lowered her voice. Some people call him the Black Death.

Molly almost smiled. The very idea was crazy. Can I see him? she asked.

The girl shook her head. I’d rather you didn’t. The manager thinks Sam should stay here. It’s upsetting for him to keep being brought back.

Until then, Molly might have walked on, but being told that she couldn’t have the dog made up her mind. No dog deserved to spend the rest of its life behind bars. She walked back to Sam’s pen. There was something very appealing about him. It wasn’t his fault his owners had died. Look, I understand your concern, but Sam can’t be blamed if some old people died.

They weren’t old, the girl said, that’s the point.

It was certainly a puzzle. If you’re not too busy, Molly asked, can you tell me some more about Sam’s history?

Sure. Come to the office, and I’ll check the records, but I don’t think it will help.

The ‘office’ was just a glorified shed, but the chairs were comfortable enough. Molly waited while the girl opened a large filing cabinet. We’re still doing things the old-fashioned way, she said with a smile. She pulled out a file and checked through it. Sam’s first owner was in his nineties. He died of old age.

No blame there, then, said Molly.

Then he went to a Mr and Mrs Bradley. Mrs Bradley brought him back three weeks later after her husband was killed in a car accident. He was only forty-five.

I see. Where did he go next?

The girl turned a page. A young couple took him. I remember them very well. They were talking about getting married, but not long after taking Sam home, the young man was dead.

Do you know what happened to him?

No, it doesn’t say. She put the file back and closed the cabinet. It’s better if Sam stays here. The manager doesn’t want to risk another death.

But Molly wasn’t prepared to give up. Look, she said. I realise you can’t give me names and addresses, she reached into her bag and jotted down her home and work numbers, but could you ask Sam’s previous owners to call me. Maybe if the deaths were accidents, and Sam wasn’t to blame in any way, the manager might agree to let me take him home.

The girl took the paper. I’ll see what I can to. She walked over to the door. I don’t suppose you’re interested in any other dogs? A very sweet spaniel cross has just come in.

No, thanks, said Molly. I’ve found the dog I want. And she left

Later that afternoon, the girl from the rescue centre rang. I’ve contacted the previous owners and given them your details. It wasn’t easy, but Mr Cartwright says you can have Sam, so long as nobody blames the dog for his owners’ deaths. But this would be his last chance.

Thanks, said Molly. I’ll be in touch.

For the remainder of the weekend, she didn’t dare leave the house, but the phone stayed silent. When it finally rang, she jumped three feet in the air, but it was only her sister, Carol.

Quickly, she told her about Sam and his gruesome reputation.

I didn’t know you wanted a dog, her sister said.

I’ve been thinking about it for months, Molly admitted. I hate coming home to an empty house. I’m 43, I’m not going to find another man. Besides, nobody could ever replace Paul. She kept the conversation short. I don’t want to risk missing a call, she explained.

As soon as she hung up, the phone rang again.

This is Mrs Bradley. You wanted to know about Sam?

"Yes, I can’t take him home unless I