A toddler, lost overnight in the woods, with only a t-shirt to protect her from 30-degree weather, isn’t the kind of story that usually ends well. But it did for three-year-old Victoria. Thanks to her Queensland heeler named Blue.
……SAM USED TO DRINK FROM THE FAUCET….DIDN’T LIKE IT MUCH WHEN I BATHED HIM 
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In a society driven by statistics, I am unable to provide an absolute number, but based on personal experience and reports from cat-fancying friends and acquaintances, there is a marked increase in the maiming, disappearance and even destruction of black cats this time of year. Coincidence? Perhaps. Occult rituals? Possibly, in some cultures so inclined. Cruelty? A definite probability. Stupidity, superstition and outright ignorance? Unfortunately, even in this age of enlightenment, a very real and horrible likelihood.
“Hey, everybody knows that black cats bring bad luck,” he insisted, then paused to watch my complexion darken, eyebrows shooting toward my auburn hairline.” I’ve always believed they have something to do with evil, witchcraft and wizardry.
There are dogs and cats, and then there are Sam Phinneys. You animal lovers know what I mean. When you look into their eyes, something special looks back at you. Yes, all animals are special, and I believe they all have souls. But Sam Phinneys have old souls. Perhaps they have more wisdom or intelligence, or maybe they are even our pet soul mates. I don’t know which, if any, it is, but I’d like to tell you about my Sam Phinney.
Thanks goodness veterinary medicine has embraced the concept of support services for pet guardians. We are blessed to have the Honoring The Bond program at Ohio State Veterinary Teaching Hospital, and I am busting a few buttons over the fact that my niece chose the human-animal bond as her specialty in social work. I could say I taught her everything she knows about clients, but who am I kidding? It was one of her mentors who held me up as I was burning out. I can remember calling Dr. Brandt on the phone many times before going in to talk to a client. At the end of a particularly tough day I’d ask her to foam the runway, because I knew I was coming in for a crash landing.
