Epitaph to a Dog by Sir William Watson (with thanks to Laird Barron for sharing it with me)
His friends he loved. His fellest earthly foes –
Cats — I believe he did but feign to hate.
My hand will miss the insinuated nose,
Mine eyes that tail that wagged contempt at Fate.
Sam passed away this evening. If you’ve read my books, then you know him as Sanchez from Scratch, Samhain from Clickers vs. Zombies, as himself in various Hail Saten volumes and the meta-fictional The Girl on the Glider, and of course, his starring role in Dark Hollow as Big Steve.
Sam and me on the day we brought him home.
Sam was my best friend. And that’s coming from a guy who’s lucky enough to have several of those. I wrote a bit about friendship a few weeks back, and I’d take a bullet for any of those guys, as well as some of my friends from my military days. But Sam was a different kind of best friend. You don’t necessarily have to be a dog person or a cat person to understand that, but you do have to be a human being. People who say things like, “It’s just a dog” are miscreants who deserve to be locked in a cage with Michael Vick.
Sam was a lot more than “just a dog”. As I said, he was my best friend. We’ve shared many adventures together — exploring beaches and stirring up deer far out in the woods, hunting snakes and splashing in streams, road trips and long walks, and many, many afternoon naps. My tears fell on his muzzle countless times and deepest were the secrets and confessions I mumbled into his furry, floppy ears. He knew my fears, my joys, my failings, and my foibles. Most importantly, he knew my love.
And I knew his.
Sam and Max prepare to use their powers.
Sam was a shelter dog. My ex-wife has always said that he chose us, rather than us choosing him, and I believe this to be true. A few years after we brought him home, another castaway showed up — Max (my cat). And although Sam occupied the spot in my office beneath my desk on a daily basis, he was more than willing to share that space with Max. That’s just the kind of dog he was. Obviously, given the time he spent at my feet while writing, and the amount of times he’s shown up in my work, Sam was my muse. But he was also our family’s protector. If Sam didn’t like you, chances were good I didn’t like you, either. Not that he was a mean dog. Far from it. He was kind and gentle — except to snakes, which he loathed as much as I do, and on one occasion, a pit bull that tried to charge me. He was a dutiful and happy playmate to Turtle, taking on the role of Doctor Doom to Turtle’s Iron Man, and more recently (as Turtle has now discovered Star Wars) he’d been filling the role of Chewbacca.
Sam’s decline was quick and sudden. In a matter of weeks, he went from his old (if older) self to a shadow of that former self. The culprit was a hemorrhagic tumor on his spleen. Luckily, he didn’t suffer. We got to say our goodbyes to him, and he got to say his to us. He’s buried in a special place next to another special friend, and I’m sitting here typing this with the mud from his grave still damp on my clothes, and I know what I want to say, but I fear I’m not saying it well, because last night was a long night, and today was the longest day, and I don’t see tonight being any shorter. I’m grieving and I miss my friend, and I don’t have the words to express it properly — which is a frustrating, heart-wrenching thing for a writer to admit.
Here are two excerpts from Dark Hollow that I hope will serve instead. Goodbye, Sam-dog. You were a good boy, and I love you.
* * *
During those rough months, I’d have gone insane if not for Big Steve. Tara brought him home from the pound to keep me company during the day. Big Steve was a mixed breed mutt — part Beagle, part Rottweiler, part Black Lab, and one hundred percent pussy. Despite his formidable size and bark, Big Steve was scared of his own shadow. He ran from butterflies and squirrels, fled from birds and wind-tossed leaves, and cowered when the mailwoman came to the door. When Tara first brought him home, he hid in the corner of the kitchen for half a day, shaking, with his tail between his legs. He warmed up to us fairly quick, but he was still frightened by anything else. Not that he let it show. When something—it didn’t matter what, a groundhog or Seth Ferguson, the kid from across the street—stepped onto our property, the Rottweiler inside him came out. He was all bark and no bite, but a robber would have had a hard time believing that.
Big Steve became my best friend. He listened while I read manuscript pages out loud to him. He’d lie on the couch and watch television with me when I took a break from writing. We liked the same beer, and the same food (because dog food just didn’t do it for Big Steve; he preferred a nice, juicy steak or some cheese-dripping pizza). Most importantly, Big Steve knew when it was time to drag my ass away from the computer. That was how we started our daily walks, and now they were a scheduled routine. Two per day—one at dawn, shortly after Tara left for work, and the second at sundown, before I started making dinner, when she was on her way home. Tara commutes to Baltimore everyday, and it was at those times—when she first left and when she was due home—that the house seemed especially lonely. Big Steve had impeccable timing. He’d get me outside and that always cheered me up.
and
And then, before we could move, Big Steve finally found his courage. Tara pranced by again, writhing in time to the music. Big Steve watched her pass. Then he slipped his collar and leaped from the undergrowth, landing in the midst of the circle, interrupting the orgy. The women screamed and scattered. Big Steve barked. The music stopped.
I clutched the dog’s empty leash in my hand.
Roaring, Hylinus charged.
Snarling, Big Steve sprang to meet him.
Brian,
So sorry to hear that. Lost my boy (Bailey) recently too, and I know how hard it can be. Stay strong and know he is always with you!
Longtime reader and fan,
Mike
That sucks man. I’m sorry for your loss. Its never easy to lose a pet.
Hey Brother, I know exactly where you’re coming from. As an only child growing up I only had one friend besides my hundreds of books, and that was Penny, a mutt that I saved from a puppy mill when I was 4 (parents let me pick her out). Earlier this April I lost her. After 18 years of the strongest friendship I’ve ever had with another creature, she passed away. She became sick on a Thursday and by that next Monday she was gone. I know where you’re coming from. All I can say while I sit here crying for you, is that Sam’s in a better place. The next couple of nights might be rough, but it’s got to get better. Many hugs, bro!
My deepest and sincerest condolences, Brian. I know the pain of losing such a beloved friend. Take solace, if you can, in knowing Sam will live on, in the hearts and imaginations of every one of your devout readers.
Brian – My heart moved when I read your words. As a life time dog owner, and I have had many, I shed tears for your loss and remember those I loved and lost. Know that Sam’s spirit will find it’s way back to you!
Peace
So sorry for your loss. I’ll have two shots, one for each of you.
Dear Brian –
I’ve dedicated my last four anthologies to Scooby Hamilton, the half-pit, half-dachshund asleep on my couch as we speak. There are no words for how much I love that dog. So I completely understand where all your words are, now.
Sam went out loved. That’s as good as it gets. And I bet he misses you, too, in whatever fields are next.
Yer brother,
Skipp
Condolences, that’s always such a rough loss
Farewell, good ol’ dog.
Brian, I lost my best friend recently after 12 great years. It is a singularly painful experience. I’m sorry for your loss.
“I have sometimes thought of the final cause of dogs having such short lives and I am quite satisfied it is in compassion to the human race; for if we suffer so much in losing a dog after an acquaintance of ten or twelve years, what would it be if they were to live double that time?”
Sir Walter Scott
Sorry for your loss, Brian. Always terrible to lose that close a friend. Love always conquers fear. The joy you felt, the love you shared… hold on to it, for it will give you strength.
God, so sorry to hear. At least it was quick. And it sounds like Sam had the best life possible.
My own dog is turning twelve next month. She’s still pretty sprightly, but not a day goes by where I don’t think about how it might end up ending. I hope you pick up another dog soon, and give it a great life too.
Brian,
My heart goes out to you, my friend, and thank you for being so honest with the world. The words were perfect and the message was clear. Sam will always be immortalized in fiction and that is a legacy few can claim.
Stay solid, dude, and I will say a prayer for him tonight.
Chuck Rios
You eloquently expressed your love for Sam. That matters.
Mate – you made me well up… (spot the dog person). So sorry to hear this. It gets better, but you know that.
Dear Brian,
I think you did a fine job writing this epitaph for your pooch. It made me shed a tear,and that takes a lot! Humans have nothing on dogs. They don’t care what u look like,or who u r….the just love!!! That’s a lot more to say than most humans! I love my dog/daughter Honey,..
I’m sorry to hear of your loss. It’s never easy losing a family member. It always hurts. We all know the joys and pains of life. It’s just never easy. Keep your head up brother.
Goodnight to a rare and gentle soul, fierce in loyalty and defense.
Brian,
My deepest sympathies for your loss. Nothing replaces the selfless love that we get from our fur children. I’ve had to experience the loss of a very sweet but cantankerous ailing dog (taken too early, in my estimation, but that is another story) as well as a few cats in my life. But I do believe that they, in spirit, will always be with us.
Aaah, so sorry to hear about your loss Brian. My condolences to you and your family who obviously loved Sam very much and who obviously loved you back very much. That was a touching piece you wrote. May you and your family try to get some enjoyment out of the Thanksgiving holiday.
I’m sorry for your loss Brian… many times you find them more loyal than many humans…
My condolences as well Brian, It seems that when we lose a dog the pain is so great that we vow to never have another. Time passes and we feel the need to fill the emptyness, a puppy arrives and the cycle begins again. Grieve for your friend, then live your life.
So sorry dude. I know what you mean about the special place animals occupy within you. My three cats are my children and when they go – a piece of me will go with them. I cried like a baby when Big Steve went in Dark Hollow – sending a hug your way.
My condolences, Brian. My own dear feline friend, Mr. Pickles, died just a couple of weeks ago at the tender age of three due to a freak, genetic heart disease and I’ve felt heartbroken about it. I, too, feel deep frustration with anyone who says “it’s only a pet”.
Please know that my warmest thougts are extended to you and your family in the wake of your loss.
Beautiful tribute. Sorry for the sadness and loss you are feeling now. Sounds like Sam was a lucky and much-loved friend; sounds like he knew it, too. Stay strong.
Sorry for your loss, Brian. Losing a dog feels like losing a piece of yourself. It’s shitty now, but it’ll get better with time. Surrounding yourself with good friends and whiskey always makes it easier! Feel better, man. Hope everything else is well.
Tim
My condolences, Brian. I hope you keep Sam alive in your fiction.
I’m sorry to hear about Sam. I never had the chance to meet him, but he was obviously a compassionate and loyal companion. You were lucky to have him, especially those times when you needed him the most.
*HUG* You said it perfectly. If he was as sweet as he looked, you were indeed lucky. The love of a dog is like nothing else. My thoughts and prayers are with your family.
Brian, I’m so very sorry. My four-footed friends mean everything to me and I know what you’re feeling. It’s a special kind of love, isn’t it? I’m glad you were with him at the end to ease his passing.
My condolences, Brian…
Just had something similar, the dog of my fiance (who lived at her parents because we don’t have space in the city) had to be put down recently.
That dog was just a bit older than out relationship (15yrs) and since I never really enjoyed staying at her parents – he was always the only thing I was looking forward to (I always liked to think that he also enjoyed my company more than the usual).
Worst thing about this is that her parents decided to put him down without telling us (and we live 30min away), so the both of us couldn’t even say goodbye…
Brian, Sam’s life was so full. He loved and was greatly loved. He’s now somewhere chasing rabbit tail, eating medium rare steaks, and bragging to all the other dogs how his best friend put him in all those books. When he’s trying to hook up with another dog, he crawls over, drapes and arm around her, and tells her, “Just call me Big Steve.” He loved you for everything you did.
Know exactly what you’re feeling. lost my buddy of 13 years within a week a month back. Spent more than i should trying to save her, but had to put her down anyway. in my arms was the only way she deserved to go. I cried like a little girl…for a few days. Sucks more than i thought it ever would.
My heart goes out to you because i know it feels like yours got crushed.
Slim.
I’m so sorry for the loss. I sympathize very keenly.
Oh that is just awful. Losing a furry family member is far worse then losing human family members, but maybe that’s just me. I am so sorry for your loss Brian. Just remember the good times and keep him alive in your stories.
I’m sorry, Brian. You both needed and loved each other and it doesn’t get any better than that.
As a pet owner for years, I totally understand. Our thoughts are with you.
I am very sorry to here about your loss. I have learned from my pets that they are apart of the family and when we lose them its devastating.
Sorry for you loss. We put ours down many years ago, but for a long time we would still feel like he was sleeping right under the table.
I remember my dalmation/collie cross that I had with me a number of years ago that quickly became my best friend. Sadly, she passed at about the 6 month mark from complications due to a blockage from something I never saw her eat that she shouldn’t have. I could not imagine what it would have been like had she been with me a lifetime. They grow on you fast, and the good ones always leave a mark where it matters most. Take care, Brian…
You have my condolences, Brian. Losing your best friend is never easy. The memories you have of Sam will live on forever. I believe our beloved pets are never far away… just a few paces ahead.
So sorry to hear, Brian. My thoughts are with you.
Brian I am so sorry for your loss. I know you both made each other’s lives better. Hang in there the best you can. Our pets mean so much.
Brian, I’m so sorry. Not an easy thing, losing our four legged companions.
Very sorry for your loss. My condolences to you and your family.
So very sorry for your lost. I lost mine a while back and it felt like losing a losing a member of the family. You and him were lucky to have had each other.
The Rainbow Bridge
There is a bridge connection Heaven and Earth. It is call The Rainbow Bridge. Just this side of The Rainbow Bridge there is a land of meadows, hills, and valleys with lush green grass. When a beloved pet dies, the pet goes to this place. There is always food and water and warm spring weather. The old and frail are made young again. Those who are maimed, are made whole again. They play all day with each other. There is only one think missing. They are not with their special person who loved them on Earth. So, each day, they run and play until the day comes when one suddenly stops playing and looks up, the nose twitches! The ears are up! The eyes are staring! And this one suddenly runs from the group! You have been seen, and when you and your special friend meet you take him or her in your arms and embrace. Your face is kissed again and again and you look once more into the eyes of your trusting pet. Then you cross The Rainbow Bridge together, never again to be separated.
Brian,
Lost my good friend, Chloe, at the end of July…I am so sorry for you loss.
Take care,
WAYNE
I am very sorry for your loss Brian. Your tribute brought me to tears as I too lost my best friend a year and a half ago. Your line about not being a dog or cat person just a human being is spot on and could not have been stated any better
I’m so sorry for your loss, man. He was an awesome dog the few times I met him, and I know how much he meant to you.
But, hey, look on the bright side…he’s probably killing all sorts of snakes up in doggy heaven for ya right now!
Hey Brian!
I’m so sorry to hear about Sam. He sounds like a wonderful friend to have, and I’m honored to have a piece of him in my heart too thanks to Big Steve. I cried at the end of “Dark Hollow”, and I will probably be a wreck when my own pups go. Two are in double digits and the third is close behind. I love our dogs with all my heart. Truly, they bring a brilliant light to those dark times when it seems like the world couldn’t get meaner.
Take care man, we are blessed to have known these incredible, loving creatures.
Clive Barker has a great way of putting it: “He has turned a corner ahead of me and will be out of sight for a little while.”
I was so sorry to hear about Sam. My wife and I are big time dog lovers, we’ve lost 2 this year and I’m hoping we won’t lose a 3rd. My heart goes out to you…
I grew up with dogs, but it’s been almost 25 years since I lived with one. Recently, my family rescured a seven-year-old dachshund, and I’m now having the joy of seeing my daughters get to know life with a dog, and I wonder what the hell took me so long to bring a dog into their lives. I have a couple cats, and they’re wonderful, but there’s a very special bond between humans and dogs that seems almost spiritual. I’m so glad you had Sam in your life, and I’m so sorry for your loss. He was a Good Dog, and it sounds like he did dor you what all Good Dogs do — make us better humans. Take care, brother.
This is a great tribute, Brian, and I’m sorry for your loss.
Shit, man. Sorry as fuck to hear this. My thoughts are with ya.
Sorry Brother. I have always found it easier when a person passes than a dog. The first death I experienced was at age seven and it was my first dog. I cried every day for almost two months. It got so bad my mom took me to see a priest to explain death and heaven to me. It didn’t work, but eventually I got over it. Six years ago, I lost my best friend Skye, who was much like your Sam. I still miss her, and next month I’m going to have another dog. (We already have him per say, but he lives with my brother-in-law until next month). I can;t say no to my girls who have already fell in love with him. Can’t say no to the kids.
Sorry to hear of your loss. I lost two of mine fairly close together. Both were over 16years old and as loyal and loving as they come. My girlfriend lost a cat recently as well. All of the events were rough and took time to ease. Yes they were animals but also family members. There are people who will never understand the connection and support of a fleabag because they see them as just animals. But in the end, all we are is just another animal.
Again, I’m sorry to hear. Take care.
Sorry for your loss.
When you express your sadness over the loss of Sam some people may say to you, “it’s just a dog”; those people don’t understand. Take comfort in knowing that the world is full of people that know the special role a pet plays and the hurt it causes when they leave. I believe we are called “pet people”. You can always tell the pet people as they will look at you with understanding when you talk about Sam’s personality. The others won’t. I don’t know if you did it on purpose but through your writing you have immortalized Sam and have given him a legacy that many world leaders won’t enjoy. Keep that in mind. Celebrate his life, mourn his loss. And don’t feel bad if you hurt more than you think you should, he was not “just a dog”.
Brian, I am so sorry to hear about the loss of your dog. As you well know, dogs rule our house and we understand how you feel. It took me as long to get over the loss of our pug Criswell as it did any human I’ve loved and lost. xxoo, Michelle & Tom
The loss of a beloved pet is extremely painful. My heart goes out to you for your loss. I know how it is, and it royally sucks. I’m sorry that had to happen.
I get it.
It’s not the muddy remnants from the graveside or the silence when you came inside or the cold next to your feet.
It’s the image burned into your mind from right before then, when you stared deep into his eyes for the last time, and a torrent of love and gratitude and good-bye poured out from his soul, that brings you to your knees in heartache and forever scars your soul.
I rarely comment on anything…anytime…but I was moved to tears (and I’m trying to keep it all together at work…ok, you caught me…I’m slacking off reading this instead) reading this post. My best friend, a cat named Thomas, may be really sick…or it may be nothing…but it’s these times we realize how much a part of the family our furry companions are (and we like them way more than most of the humans in our families). You’ll never forget Sam, and you’ll love him forever. Be well.
Thank you, everyone. I am deeply moved by your condolences and thoughts.
Dude, I feel your pain. It’s been over a year since I lost my best friend. There are times I still cry when I think of her.
I firmly believe that we wouldn’t need religion if we just paid more attention to what dogs can teach us. Loyalty. Unconditional acceptance. Love. What’s important and what it isn’t.
Sam will live on and on and on.