<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_HcW1R2xVTKA/SxaCCQsPwLI/AAAAAAAAA4U/C7W1hd4p0G4/s640/94%20December070.jpg" border="0" width="640" height="488" /></p> <p style="text-align: center;">&nbsp;</p> <p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">"A dog is for life, not just for Christmas."</span></p> <p style="text-align: center;">&nbsp;</p> <p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">{National Canine Defense League Slogan}</span></p> <p style="text-align: center;">&nbsp;</p> <p style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_HcW1R2xVTKA/SoRbCU4YhqI/AAAAAAAAARg/h7IDIhYxESg/s512/Sam%20Jan%2009.jpg" border="0" width="384" height="512" /></p> <p style="text-align: center;">&nbsp;</p> <p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;">This is Sam</span> <span style="font-size: small;">who had gone blind before this picture was taken last year.</span></p>

<p><span style="font-size: small;">An illustrated story {from the old site} where the photos are as important as the text. It's a bit of an experiment. Please let me know what you think.</span></p> <p class="bMore"><span style="font-size: small;"><a name="more5565"></a></span></p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p style="text-align: center;"><strong><span style="font-size: small;">Dogs of Troy</span></strong></p> <p><span style="font-size: small;">At the beginning we were just two of a litter of yellow Labrador puppies. In those days it was a case of &lsquo;dog eat dog&rsquo; and &lsquo;survival of the fittest&rsquo;. We were the pick of the bunch!</span></p> <div class="image_block" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><img src="../blogs/media/blogs/bob_scotney/dtroya.JPG" border="0" width="367" height="294" /></span></div> <p><span style="font-size: small;"><br /><br /> We are brother and sister with the names of Sam and Max, or for those who prefer the softer option we will respond to Sammy and Maxie. Initially we were known as the yellow labs of Troy although our neighbours must have considered us to be descendants of The Plague Dogs; it was such fun living on an open housing development. Unfortunately this meant we were often tethered to a stake to stop us wandering off and chasing anything that moved in the vicinity. We were a handsome pair &ndash; far more so than Paris and Helen.</span></p> <div class="image_block" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><img src="../blogs/media/blogs/bob_scotney/dtroyb.JPG" border="0" width="367" height="357" /></span></div> <p><span style="font-size: small;"><br /><br /> It was very difficult to say which was more comfortable; at least the grass was softer, but in the concrete jungle we were able to move around without the rope restricting where we could go.</span></p> <div class="image_block" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><img src="../blogs/media/blogs/bob_scotney/dtroyd.JPG" border="0" width="368" height="199" /></span></div> <p><span style="font-size: small;"><br /><br /> Inside the house we each had a specially designed box and cage in which to sleep, and for play whenever our owners were out. This soon taught us not to mess upon the floor. It was great to try and get into the others cage and to resist being ousted by its owner. But why is someone else&rsquo;s bed always softer and warmer than the cold linoleum floor? </span></p> <div class="image_block" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><img src="../blogs/media/blogs/bob_scotney/dtroye.JPG" border="0" width="368" height="217" /></span></div> <p></p> <p><span style="font-size: small;"> Training to get fit and stronger was such fun, but our personal trainers often tired us out. That&rsquo;s why after a workout we loved to sleep, on the carpet, in the sun watched over by our trainers. </span></p> <div class="image_block" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><img src="../blogs/media/blogs/bob_scotney/dtroyf.JPG" border="0" width="368" height="242" /></span></div> <p><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></p> <p><span style="font-size: small;">Efforts were made to keep us in with doors blocked so effectively that we could not escape or so they thought.</span></p> <div class="image_block" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><img src="../blogs/media/blogs/bob_scotney/dtroyg.JPG" border="0" width="368" height="279" /></span></div> <p></p> <p><span style="font-size: small;">But if you did it was lonely in that concrete jungle. </span></p> <div class="image_block" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><img src="../blogs/media/blogs/bob_scotney/dtroyh.JPG" border="0" width="361" height="200" /></span></div> <p></p> <p><span style="font-size: small;">Together though once we were loose, we threatened any thing that moved, &ldquo;Come closer and we pounce.&rdquo;</span></p> <div class="image_block" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><img src="../blogs/media/blogs/bob_scotney/dtroyi.JPG" border="0" width="361" height="258" /></span></div> <p><span style="font-size: small;"><br /><br /><br /> We have been taken to all sorts of strange places just to socialise. We were not keen to be kept on leads. Even this could become a game in which we gave points to each other for how many times we could get entangled with legs, each other or pull our owners over. Roller skaters in the park did not like us and shrieked at us to get out of their way &ndash; anyone would think that they owned the paths. Apart from the blame we got if there was any damage. Honest, I didn't chew it.</span></p> <div class="image_block" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><img src="../blogs/media/blogs/bob_scotney/dtroyj.JPG" border="0" width="361" height="244" /></span></div> <p><span style="font-size: small;"><br /><br /> Socialising had its ups and downs; there were even times when a reassuring pat was necessary to quell the fears that arose from other marauding dogs. </span></p> <div class="image_block" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><img src="../blogs/media/blogs/bob_scotney/dtroyk.JPG" border="0" width="361" height="245" /></span></div> <p><span style="font-size: small;"><br /><br /> Maxi was not at all amused by those Canadian birds that refused to play, swam away or just &lsquo;honked&rsquo; at us. However this was better than those big white birds with large flapping wings which didn&rsquo;t honk but hissed most menacingly. </span></p> <div class="image_block" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><img src="../blogs/media/blogs/bob_scotney/dtroyl.JPG" border="0" width="361" height="211" /></span></div> <p><span style="font-size: small;"><br /><br /> Consequently there were times when it was much better to stay at home and just snuggle up and dream about a pile of bones.<br /><br /> We went canoeing once and this was to be the start of Sam&rsquo;s water phobia. He fell in and not knowing how to swim had to be rescued in a panic. We both believe that his fear of going into lakes and ponds, where the water comes above his knees, was started by this episode early in this thing they called socialising.</span></p> <p><span style="font-size: small;">We were to learn there was not just one mad English woman &ndash; the one who looked after our needs and scolded us for our misdeeds. Every now and then the house would get an extra clean and we were warned to be on our best behaviour. The English from across the &lsquo;big pond&rsquo; would arrive in one of those noisy machines that fly higher in the sky than any bird. They would take over playing with us; but how we wished &lsquo;he&rsquo; wouldn&rsquo;t sit in our favourite chair. We just had to fight him for it. </span></p> <div class="image_block" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><img src="../blogs/media/blogs/bob_scotney/dtroym.JPG" border="0" width="361" height="289" /></span></div> <p><span style="font-size: small;"><br /><br /> When it was hot it was better to spend some time in the shade,butSammy wished that Maxie would be more considerate in where she stuck her grass or did she forget the &lsquo;gr&hellip;&rsquo;? </span></p> <div class="image_block" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><img src="../blogs/media/blogs/bob_scotney/dtroyn.JPG" border="0" width="367" height="232" /></span></div> <p><span style="font-size: small;">With &lsquo;her&rsquo; from England we had to take our turn in the sun or at &lsquo;her&rsquo; knee &ndash; much more relaxing than fighting &lsquo;him&rsquo;!</span></p> <div class="image_block" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><img src="../blogs/media/blogs/bob_scotney/dtroyo.JPG" border="0" width="364" height="540" /></span></div> <p><span style="font-size: small;"><br /><br /><br /> When &lsquo;he&rsquo; was digging in the garden where we weren&rsquo;t allowed to bury bones, it wasn&rsquo;t much fun just watching, so we didn't.</span></p> <div class="image_block" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><img src="../blogs/media/blogs/bob_scotney/dtroyp.JPG" border="0" width="361" height="233" /></span></div> <p></p> <p><span style="font-size: small;">Anyway the smell from his gardening shoes was enough to make anyone fall asleep. </span></p> <div class="image_block" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><img src="../blogs/media/blogs/bob_scotney/dtroyq.JPG" border="0" width="361" height="258" /></span></div> <p></p> <p><span style="font-size: small;"><br /> There wasn&rsquo;t always sunny weather. At the time they called winter the ground became very hard and was covered with white stuff that came up to our bellies. And when it rained it rained bucketfuls that made us wet and we were meant to sit still while we were vigorously rubbed with a rough towel - which we were not meant to bite.</span></p> <div class="image_block" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><img src="../blogs/media/blogs/bob_scotney/dtroyr.JPG" border="0" width="361" height="240" /></span></div> <p><span style="font-size: small;"><br /><br /> When him who was married to our mad English woman got involved in all sorts of projects that were called &lsquo;do it yourself&rsquo; there was all sorts of upheaval. </span></p> <div class="image_block" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><img src="../blogs/media/blogs/bob_scotney/dtroys.JPG" border="0" width="361" height="235" /></span></div> <p></p> <p><span style="font-size: small;">You never knew what was going to happen next. They may have liked parquet flooring but you can&rsquo;t even settle down to a decent siesta with &lsquo;him&rsquo; from across the pond.</span></p> <div class="image_block" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><img src="../blogs/media/blogs/bob_scotney/dtroyt.JPG" border="0" width="361" height="207" /></span></div> <p><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></p> <p><span style="font-size: small;">Once a year we were given special treats on our birthday. However we felt humiliated by what we had to do. What would they say if they were forced to wear balloons on theirs? We think the mad English woman gets away with it because she can&rsquo;t find any clothes that match the ruddy things.</span></p> <div class="image_block" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><img src="../blogs/media/blogs/bob_scotney/dtroyu.JPG" border="0" width="209" height="361" /></span></div> <p><span style="font-size: small;"><br /><br /><br /> The time came when we heard that a move to somewhere in the country was being planned. It was most confusing; what was to happen to us we didn&rsquo;t really know. Surely they couldn&rsquo;t leave us here, could they? Now was the time to look appealing.</span></p> <div class="image_block" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><img src="../blogs/media/blogs/bob_scotney/dtroyv.JPG" border="0" width="361" height="289" /></span></div> <p><span style="font-size: small;"><br /><br /> And just in case one of us had to learn to drive.</span></p> <div class="image_block" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><img src="../blogs/media/blogs/bob_scotney/dtroyw.JPG" border="0" width="361" height="247" /></span></div> <p><span style="font-size: small;"><br /><br /> When the great day came and we were to leave to go to Oxford &ndash; that&rsquo;s in Michigan and not the famous university across the pond in the country of &lsquo;her&rsquo; and &lsquo;him&rsquo; (that&rsquo;s him who we had to fight for the chair) &ndash; to make sure we were not forgotten we nipped quickly inside the car as we didn&rsquo;t think the trash cart would take us both. Anyway the cart driver only knew us as the &lsquo;Yellow Labs of Troy&rsquo;.</span></p> <div class="image_block" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><img src="../blogs/media/blogs/bob_scotney/dtroyx.JPG" border="0" width="361" height="232" /></span></div> <p><span style="font-size: small;"><br /><br /> If you have liked our story, you have seen nothing yet! Wait till you get the chance to hear the tale of &lsquo;The Deer Trail Hounds&rsquo;!</span></p>

<p><em><span style="font-size: medium;">As the dogs v cats discussion has started I thought it was time to give this piece an airing. I like dogs - check out&nbsp;my blog&nbsp;category on Dogs</span></em>. <span style="font-size: medium;"><em>It would set the scene for this instalment if you read 'Dogs of Troy' first. [Other instalments will follow at intervals}</em></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;" align="center"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: 16pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Deer Trail Hounds</span><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;" align="center"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: medium;">&nbsp;</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;" align="center"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Sam and Maxie</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 27pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: medium;">When we, the former &lsquo;Yellow Labs of Troy&rsquo;, arrived at our new home at Deer Trail our impromptu excursions were curtailed (now that&rsquo;s a nasty word to some dogs but we have a pedigree); we were corralled, behind the house, inside a compound with a solid wire fence too high for one-year olds to jump. The ground was even too hard for us to dig our way out. It was much more like a prison to keep us in &ndash; unlike the Troy electrical pet-fence that we could just bound through and pretend that we could not get in because the shock was <em>much</em> too strong for such young pups.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 27pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 27pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: medium;">&ldquo;Our&rdquo; compound at Deer Trail was surrounded by five acres of grass land containing the house and a deep lake not appreciated by Sam, though Maxie took to it like a Labrador to water. Sam would still only wet his ankles and occasionally his knees. A further five acres of woodland at the back of the property made up what was to be the domain of the group that were to become the &ldquo;Deer Trail Hounds&rdquo;.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 27pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 27pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Squirrels frequent the woods, but cheat by climbing trees. As you might expect from the Deer Tail name, those big brown animals and their fawns used the woods and our grounds. We could do little more than learn to bark at them in the hope they would go away. They treated us with such disdain only moving when they thought they would. They even had the cheek, when we were in the house, to climb the fence to our prison compound to raid the food feeder that we could not reach, either by standing on our hind legs or by jumping in the air. We have never understood why he who feeds us never fires his gun at them although we heard that she who feeds us will leave him if he does.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 27pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 27pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: medium;">From time to time we were treated to trips in the motor car. On one famous occasion we were smuggled into a &ldquo;pet-free&rdquo; hotel. We did not like it there and howled all night to go home to our compound and the beds we knew. Any way Sam was frightened by lakes so Great that they made ours look like a little puddle.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 27pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 27pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: medium;">At home we still slept in the cages brought with us from Troy, but now the gates were left open and we could roam at will in a huge room they called the garage. All the doors were shut at night; just one was left open during the day and we could escape into our compound to chase those damned squirrels and bark at the deer.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 27pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 27pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Then, when we were two years old, the pre-Gem era came to an abrupt end &ndash; and all because we had eaten our way through our stock of food!</span></span></span></p> <p>&nbsp;</p>

<p><span style="font-size: medium;">While we were in the USA in May Sam my daughter's blind dog had to be put to sleep, I have just received this poem from her:</span></p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_HcW1R2xVTKA/SoRbCU4YhqI/AAAAAAAAARg/h7IDIhYxESg/s512/Sam%20Jan%2009.jpg" border="0" width="384" height="512" /></p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:PunctuationKerning /> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas /> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables /> <w:SnapToGridInCell /> <w:WrapTextWithPunct /> <w:UseAsianBreakRules /> <w:DontGrowAutofit /> </w:Compatibility> <w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" LatentStyleCount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]> <span class="mceItemObject" classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id=ieooui> </span> <style> st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } </style> <![endif]--> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Georgia; panose-1:2 4 5 2 5 4 5 2 3 3; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:roman; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:647 0 0 0 159 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0cm; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:612.0pt 792.0pt; margin:72.0pt 90.0pt 72.0pt 90.0pt; mso-header-margin:36.0pt; mso-footer-margin:36.0pt; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> <!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><strong><span style="font-size: 18pt; font-family: Georgia;">Sam Was My Good Boy</span></strong></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">&nbsp;</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">Sam was my first dog. He was such a good boy.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">Good? Maybe not&mdash;at least not at his first home in Troy.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">The words &ldquo;come&rdquo; and &ldquo;no&rdquo; and the electric fence meant nothing to him.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">And he was a lab, yet he couldn&rsquo;t fetch, retrieve, or even swim.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">&nbsp;</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">Sam was my first dog. Okay, maybe he was &ldquo;kind of&rdquo; good.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">Chasing deer in their new home, he and Moo would escape through the wood</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">They&rsquo;d come home with deer parts, possums and the occasional mouse<span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">And traipse their big dirty paws throughout the whole house.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">&nbsp;</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">Sam was my first dog. But he really was good.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">He never fought for food, chewed up shoes, or rolled in mud.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">When the new rescue dog, Jack, tried to eat his food and bite his nose--he didn&rsquo;t mind.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">When Jack was sick, it was always Sam who would lie with him&mdash;he was SO kind.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">&nbsp;</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">Sam was my first dog. And, YES, he was a good boy.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">From the day we chose each other, he brought me so much joy.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">Even when he went blind and had to live in the dark,</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">He still took himself for walks and played, and, boy, did he still love to bark.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">&nbsp;</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">Sam was my first dog. He was good and I love him still</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">He holds a place in my heart that no one will ever fill.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" align="center"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: ">Sam&rsquo;s Downfall</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: ">The door in the kitchen at the top of the spiral staircase was closed. The staircase leads down into the basement. A counterweight on the door ensures it closes after anyone descends..</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: ">Day 2 of our trip to my daughter&rsquo;s home; my wife and I had been left in charge. I was refreshing my memory on birds of Michigan, my wife was in the kitchen.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: ">The sound of a crash and my wife exclaiming, &ldquo;What was that?&rdquo; brought me into the kitchen. We knew at once that Sam, my daughter&rsquo;s 13 year-old yellow Labrador, had nosed the door open enough to fall down the staircase.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: ">[Long time readers of my blog will know that Sam is blind.]</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: ">I reached the bottom of the staircase without it seemed, touching any step. It was a sickening feeling to see a bundle of yellow on the basement floor.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: ">After my wife had switched on the lights I could see that the yellow bundle was Sam, sitting on his haunches. He hadn&rsquo;t made a sound.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: ">With my encouragement he stood up and started to use his nose too explore the surroundings.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: ">To our relief there was no harm done; Sam allowed me to lead him out of the basement door to the grass outside to take him to the dog flap in the garage door. Now he knew where he was. Inside the house he just lay down and slept the rest of the day.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: ">The staircase door has been oiled and a heavier counterweight added.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_HcW1R2xVTKA/SoRbCU4YhqI/AAAAAAAAARg/h7IDIhYxESg/s512/Sam%"></a></span></p>