Sami : Part 2

I don't know if other bloggers do this, but I feel like I'm famous for promising a post-to-come and then never delivering on my promise. I realize this blog is a hobby and I have a life full of people who need me and most of you aren't sitting by your computers wondering what happened to that essay Kelly promised. Still. I feel guilty when I don't follow through.

And the biggest guilt of all for me has been not finishing the story of our dog. You can read Sami: Part 1 here, and since it was published almost six months ago, you should probably do that to refresh your memory before you jump into Sami: Part 2 below. The good news is -- I'm exorcising my guilt this week by writing a portion of the story every day until it's done. And I can do this because I am officially over the first trimester nausea (insert gigantic woo-hoo here) which means I can enjoy my life again. Even small things like writing this story make me immeasurably happy. It's good to be back.

Long explanation over, we'll pick up the story where I left off in Part 1.

For 30 minutes, Natalie was in heaven. Sami jumped and licked and played and barked and did all the doggy things you expect a (rather large) puppy to do to please her new owner.

Unfortunately, those same 30 minutes were akin to torture for Connor and Teyla, both of whom were terrified by this wild beast who had come into their home and seemingly taken over. Sami lunged at Connor, knocking him over. She poked her nose into Teyla's face, resulting in a shriek from our little girl that we haven't heard replicated to this day. Connor ended up laying across the top of the couch to get away from the dog, and Teyla clung to our shoulders in fright.

It was about this time that Corey turned to me and said, "Look at my finger." I did -- and I gasped. It was purple and swollen, his fingernail was black and bleeding.

"What happened?" I asked, wide-eyed.

"I slammed my finger in the back of the SUV when I was putting the dog's stuff in," he grimaced.

But we didn't have time to continue the conversation then, since the doorbell rang and my family from California came pouring through the door. Mass chaos ensured (which Corey would surely say describes my family even without a wild dog, but in this case, the dog didn't help). We ended up putting Sami in her kennel, which was obviously not popular with a dog who had previously been outside all her life. But we had to do what we had to do.

The evening passed in a blur. It was wonderful to see my family, wonderful to look forward to a week of having them here in the Twin Cities. But to be honest, my brain was in a fog. "Maybe this wasn't the best time to get a dog," I thought. "We just have so much going on right now."

But one look at Natalie's face told me I would have to adjust. At bedtime, she started crying because she missed Sami so much. (Sami was one floor away in her kennel at the time.) "I just love her, Mom!" she sobbed.

After the kids were settled, Corey and I sat on the couch and tried to make sense of our new reality. First, the dog was obviously wild. Sweet, yes. But wild. We hadn't anticipated that she would terrorize two of our three children. Second, we had a whole lot of activities going on the next few days. How would we integrate a wild dog into our packed schedule? We have no yard to occupy her. It seemed she would be in her kennel for most of the day. How would that go over?

And then there was Corey's finger. He managed to hide it from my family all evening, but I saw him ascending the stairs several times to take pain medicine, which was a stunning admission of injury for my husband, who has been known to set his own broken bones so he can finish a game without a visit to the ER.

We went to bed. I had a sick feeling in my stomach, and before I fell asleep, I voiced my deepest fears.

"I think we made a huge mistake," I whispered.

Within 12 hours, I would be proved right.

(To be continued THIS WEEK, I promise.)