Grandma paused on the steps. Had the doorbell just rung? She listened. Yes, there it was. But who could be calling at this time of night? Grandma went to the door and opened it but all she found was a small basket with a Welsh Corgi puppy nestled in soft blankets. Grandma smiled as she took the puppy up in her arms. He whined softly, snuggling up against her for warmth. Grandma smiled again and took the puppy inside and up to bed with her.
Saturday morning found Grandma and the puppy watching the dog show. The puppy lay on Grandma’s lap, his ears pricked forward. The sound of the door opening made them turn. Grandma smiled as thirteen-year-old twins Solomon and Sophie, her grandchildren, came in the room. They would be staying with her during the summer.
“Oh, Grandma, a puppy!” Sophie exclaimed, “He’s so cute!”
“I found him on the doorstep last night,” Grandma smiled. “He still needs a name.” Grandma chuckled. “I found my comforter on the floor with him wrapped up inside it this morning.” Solomon stared at the puppy. He knew how heavy that comforter was.
“You’re living with a little Samson,” Sophie smiled, petting the puppy. “We can call him Samson!”
“Sounds like a good name to me,” Grandma approved. “You three get along now, you hear?” The twins smiled. They all jumped as Samson yipped at the television. Turning, they saw one of the dogs misbehaving. Grandma laughed and patted Samson. “He knows a naughty dog when he sees one.”
That summer, the twins began to train Samson. Unfortunately, Samson had no intention of being trained without difficulty. For many days the twins would be chasing after him and calling his name. Samson thought it was great fun. But over time, he learned to sit, stay, and to let someone know when he needed to go outside. However, the command to not antagonize the mailman was a concept little Samson could not be taught. He simply couldn’t resist barking at the poor mailman. The twins were at a loss.
The next three years saw Samson grow up to be a heavy and very bulky dog. He wasn’t overfed, he was just a very big dog. And with all his friendly bulk he became an excellent guard dog. He had scared off a few thieves one night. And he would always be waiting for the twins when they came for the summer.
But as Samson grew, Grandma grew ill. The twins, now eighteen, were at her house more often, even during the school season. Samson remained by Grandma’s side, always being able to help carry groceries, or pull the laundry basket into the room for Grandma to fold the clothes. But Grandma’s illness got worse very quickly, and she was taken to the hospital, leaving the twins and Samson alone at the house.
Samson was miserable. He had the twins, but it wasn’t the same without Grandma. He went to live with Solomon and Sophie at their house, but even their constant company didn’t help his loneliness.
The twins soon found out that there wasn’t enough money to pay for Grandma’s medical bills. Their parents scraped together what they could, but it wasn’t quite enough.
“Sol,” Sophie looked at Solomon. They were home alone. Solomon looked at her. “What would it take to enter Samson into the dog show?”
“A lot of time and training,” Solomon replied. “Do you remember how hard Samson was to train? He still can’t resist chasing the mailman.”
“I know,” Sophie sighed, “But if we could at least make it to fourth place, we’d have enough money for the medical bills.” Solomon stared at Samson, who slept in the corner. “We could train him. It wouldn’t take much work, would it? He already knows how to sit and stay.”
“We’ll give it a shot,” Solomon nodded at last, “Come on, let’s get to work. Samson, come on boy!”
The twins began training Samson once more. This time, it was easier. Solomon did most of the training, and Sophie mainly kept Samson’s fur clean. If Solomon wasn’t there, Sophie would train Samson, and vice versa. Soon, Samson was able to walk right beside Solomon, with and without a leash.
Finally, the day for the dog show arrived. The twins took Samson to the show area and groomed him until his goldenrod-colored fur shone. As Sophie groomed, Solomon volunteered to help set up the show ring. But as he was carrying a heavy piece of equipment, he tripped and fell backward. The equipment landed on his leg. It wasn’t too hard to free his leg, but Solomon couldn’t walk.
“Sophie,” Solomon looked at his sister. “The show’s about to start, get Samson and get out there.”
“I can’t do it, Sol,” Sophie protested, “You’re the one who trained him.”
“I can’t walk, sis, you’ll have to do it,” Solomon smiled at her, “You’ll do just fine. Knock ‘em dead.” Sophie bit her lip, but took Samson out to the ring, where Samson was given a show ring number. Sophie led Samson out to the ring. Samson was perfectly calm, but a few of the dogs misbehaved, and he barked at them chidingly.
When it was Sophie and Samson’s turn, they went through the steps to near perfection. Samson stumbled, but he was soon back on his feet. At last, all the dogs were gathered and the judges stepped forward to award the winners. They went backward, and finally came to the first place winner. Samson hadn’t been mentioned yet.
“First place winner is… Samson!” The judge pinned the blue ribbon on Samson’s collar. “2,000 dollars will be awarded to Samson.” Sophie’s smile grew even wider. She hugged Samson tight. Solomon clapped with the audience. Samson barked, his non-existent tail wiggled happily and his chocolate brown eyes sparkled with pleasure. Solomon whistled loudly, making Samson turn his head, ears pricked forward. Sophie laughed and hugged Samson again.
