Love, Twice Over

Terry and I had on-and-off conversations about whether we should have two dogs at the same time. We’d always had just one, and that “only child” often seemed lonely and bored. For six years, Princess Sammie was our one and only—until one day, we decided to bring Baby Jolie home.

For quite some time after that, we weren’t sure we’d made the right decision. We loved them both dearly, but they were so different. Jolie adored Sammie—maybe a little too much. Sammie, in turn, loved and protected Jolie, yet she often seemed overwhelmed by the constant flood of affection her little sister gave her.

Jolie learned everything from Sammie. It was delightful to watch them together, especially when Jolie stood just behind Sammie, wiggling her little butt and hopping side to side, practicing her bark. Then one day, Sammie stepped aside and let Jolie take the lead, barking at passersby on her own. The transfer of duties happened so naturally, as if Sammie were saying, “I’ve taught you everything. Now it’s your turn—I’m retired.”

We didn’t realize then that Sammie’s body was failing, and she would be gone before we knew it. Jolie spent a long time searching for Sammie after she passed.

That was the last time we ever had two dogs. But the image is still vivid—Sammie’s steady warmth and Jolie’s eager joy—love, twice over.