Kindle Edition
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P.G Glynn's Books
Amazon Kindle
Category:
Family
Publisher: Piper Publishing
Type: Fiction
Pages: 122
Copyright: September 9, 2013
ISBN-13: 9780956447043
Price: $0.99 (eBook)
A dog story for adults and kids. Sam, an adventurous Bearded Collie, tells his extraordinary story himself, with just a little help.
If your dog could talk, what stories would he tell?
'Sam's Story' is written by the scamp himself: a fun-loving, adventure-seeking, wise-beyond-his-years Bearded Collie - with a little help here and there from his human.
It's a touching story based on real events, which may seem quite hard to believe when you read them!
Sam's human learns much from his ability to live life to the full in the present moment, never judging others and embracing every happening that comes his way.
This book is ideal for anyone who loves amazing dog stories and animal stories.
Excerpt
It was the house that drew us to Gower. I suppose that with its white walls, grey slate roof and lattice windows it’s more of a cottage. Not that this little detail matters. The fact is that Westwinds brought us from Dorset to a special Welsh peninsula.
When we moved here we had no idea what lay in store. We had not yet felt the onslaught of storms that would buffet our home frenziedly from across the moors separating us from the Atlantic Ocean. We hadn’t had close encounters with wild ponies. We’d never experienced gigantic waves that could lift us up bodily and carry us out to sea.
We hadn’t lived as we’ve lived since arriving.
Who are we? Sam is a very distinctive Bearded Collie. As this story is his he will be telling it, with some input from me. All I need to say about myself is that I had the good sense to adopt him. Or did he do the adopting?
Born in Axminister, Devon, Sam’s birth name was Tangledown Mungojerrie. When I went to meet his breeder and see the seven-week old puppies with their mother, it was Sam who immediately rushed over to greet me. One look at him was enough: I had fallen in love.
Oh, the thrill of collecting that small bundle of black and white fur the following week and taking him home to Dorset, where he settled in quickly! And it didn’t seem to unsettle him when within days we were in my VW Beetle heading for a new life in west Wales.
As I was soon to learn, Sam’s a born adventurer. He’s endlessly curious – endlessly ready to explore. So a new life suited him ideally and he wasted no time in beginning his explorations.
Here’s Sam to tell you just how he began, shortly after our arrival in Westwinds’ front drive:
Mum said “Stay in the car and I’ll be back for you in a minute.” The thing is, I don’t know what a minute is. And it looks more interesting out there than in here. So I think I’ll go where she’s gone.
But there’s a problem. She shut her door and I can’t work out how to open it. I’m behind the big steering wheel after jumping from my seat to hers, and I’m finding the door handles a bit puzzling.
I push one, then the other, with my paw. Nothing happens. There’s a little window, though, that’s half-open. I try to reach it – and fall onto the floor. So I need to re-think this.
Up on Mum’s seat again, I put both my front paws on the wheel. Now I’m taller than before and can see what’s needed …
With a big leap, I suddenly have all four paws spread across the wheel and can just about reach the window. Trouble is, I’ve no spare paw for pushing the window wider – and I don’t feel too safe up here.
Oops, now I’ve crash-landed back on the floor! That’s a setback and I’m feeling a bit bruised. No worries. A bruise or two won’t stop me.
Back on Mum’s seat, I take another big leap. This time I’m happier up on the wheel and can practise balancing on three paws so that I can use the fourth to push the window. There – that’s done! Now I just need to propel myself through the gap and …
Help, I’m airborne! Maybe I’m flying like the birds I’ve seen. No, I don’t seem to be. The ground’s rushing up towards me. Thump.
That wasn’t funny. But no harm done – and now I’m outside, like Mum. Except that she isn’t here. Or, if she is, I can’t see her. Where can she be?
Wherever she is, I’ll find her. I must, as I’m quite hungry. Maybe she’s on the other side of this house I can see. I run past it into a garden where the grass is much taller than me.
After the grass there are some trees and then there’s some brown stuff. What is it?
I try digging. This is good fun.
“Sam, Sam … where are you, Sam?”
That’s Mum’s voice calling me, and it sounds a bit panicky. I’d better go and check why she’s panicking.
I run round to the front drive, where I find her standing by the car. She looks worried … and puzzled. So I scamper up and give her knee a nudge.
“Oh, there you are – and covered in mud! What have you been doing – and how on earth did you get out of the car? You surely couldn’t have climbed through that tiny triangular window – could you?”
Uncertain as to whether Mum is happy or mad with me I look up at her and wag my tail.
That has the right result. She smiles, saying: “Perhaps you did climb through it. If you did, I think I’d better re-name you Houdini. Well, Sam, are you ready for tea in our new home?”
In we go. I can see immediately that there’s plenty of exploring for me to do. As I run from room to room, I notice there are stairs too.
I like the look of stairs and wonder what’s up there. So I climb them and find more rooms – one with something that has water in it. I can’t reach the water with my back paws still on the floor, so I jump in.
What on earth can Sam be doing? The oddest sounds are coming from above the kitchen, where I’m preparing a makeshift tea with utensils and food I’ve brought with me. My furniture won’t be arriving till tomorrow.
I didn’t even know Sam could climb stairs. I suppose that’s because I didn’t give him the run of the house back home.
Suddenly registering which room is above the kitchen, I rush up to him. And there he is – stuck in the toilet bowl while struggling valiantly but unsuccessfully to get out!
“Yes, we do need to wash all that mud off,” I tell him, transferring him swiftly into the neighbouring bathroom and making a mental note always to keep the lavatory door closed. “I just wasn’t expecting bath-time to arrive before I was ready.”
He looks up at me so innocently that I’ve no inkling of the dramas and challenges he’ll be bringing me in the days ahead.
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