I don’t remember much about the animal shelter in Portland Oregon where my father had taken me to select a dog except the smell that all animal shelters seem to have in common and the fact that this one had a doggie door to an outside area for the dogs to enjoy. When we got there, my father was eager for me to see a Doberman Pincher that he had seen there a few days before. My father, who had worked at a number of Humane Societies and Dog Pounds over the years, was probably as excited as I was to be picking out a dog. To this day I think that my presence was necessary more as an excuse to get a dog rather than rewarding me for having come out to Portland to visit him.
On the way to the Doberman’s cage we passed a cage that contained a number of small, lippy dogs of indeterminate breed who were eagerly clawing at the cage attempting to get my attention. When I paused at the cage to acknowledge them, the intensity of their barking and clawing increased.
As I was preparing to move on, a big white puff of fur came in through the doggy door and plowed to front of the pack. Where he proceeded to throw his paw up at me. It was almost like he was giving me “5”. Though the other dogs were older, this dogs presence and size forced the other dogs to the side.
As far as I was considered, we didn’t have to look any further. I had “found” my dog!
My father, still more interested in the Doberman, implored me to at least take a look at that dog. Reluctantly, I got up and went to follow him. When I did, the big white puff of fur let out a “sigh” and turned around to go back outside.
Looking at the Doberman was more of a formality as far as I was concerned. I knew which dog was for me. So, my father overcame his disappointment and took me back to the cage that contained the dog who I would later name “Sy“
Sydog was mostly a Samoyed, but would grow to be bigger than Samoyeds normally grow. We always speculated as to what other breeds were involved, but nothing definite could ever be determined.
While at the time he only weighed about 25 lbs or so, he eventually grew to where he topped 100 lbs. His fur was white with just a tinge of caramel and at his biggest, he stood almost mid thigh on a 6 foot man. Like a Samoyed his fur puffed out around his chest and the more excited he got, the tighter the curl of his tail. Also like a Samoyed, he carried the “Smile Of Christmas” wherever he went.
Sy and I became inseparable. For the rest of that summer we went on adventures such as playing in the snow on Mt. Hood and splashing in the surf at Seaside Oregon.
At the end of the summer, my father drove us both back home to St. Louis where I had to convince my mother that I should be allowed to keep him after having run away from home to spend that summer with my father. Needless to say, it wasn’t the easiest transaction that I’ve ever negotiated and I was only successful in getting to keep him by playing hard ball and simply refusing to come home unless I could keep the dog.
My Mother, who had told me (her 12 year old son) on numerous occasions prior to my having run away that “If I didn’t like it there, that I could leave”, had never anticipated that I had saved up enough money and had the gumption to buy my own airplane ticket and to fly to Portland. After having been without me the entire summer and with school fast approaching, she capitulated and Sy and I moved back home.
At that time (early 1970’s) there were few, if any, Samoyeds in St. Louis and Sy and I stood out. On more than one occasion adults would approach me wanting to buy my dog. Though the dog was not for sale, it wasn’t unusual for people to come to our front door, “just to see the big white dog”.
Sy reveled in the attention. My neighborhood, Laclede Town, was full of kids and I think that Sydog actually knew just about all of them! He accompanied me wherever I went and to this day folks who lived in Laclede Town will tell stories about him.
One story that I tell happened years later, after my family had moved from the town. One of my best friends from the town was my buddy Jay. When I mentioned that Sy would accompany me wherever I went, I should have said that Sydog would accompany Jay and I wherever we went. We were basically three peas in a pod until Jay moved away (to all places, Portland Oregon).
Over the years Jay and I fell out of touch until one day Jay was back in St. Louis and looked me up. He came over to the house and though Sy hadn’t seen him in over 10 years or so and Jay had grown from a child to a man, Sy recognized him. Though by this time he was old and becoming frail, he instantaneously transformed back into a puppy again as he “attacked” Jay with a flurry of kisses. To this day it was one of the sweetest reunions that I have ever witnessed.
Sydog made it to his 14th year before old age claimed him. For me, Sy was my constant companion. My best friend. He was with me from the onset of puberty til just shy of the birth of my firstborn child.
I’m not a religious person at all, but I do hope that there really is some kind of after life and that some day that I get to see ole Sy again. That I get to let him know how important he was to me. To let him know how much he was loved.
