If only I hadn't developed that old roll of film.
     If only I hadn't looked at his picture.
     If only my heart hadn't rushed back so quickly to that time of
anguish.
     I held the picture in my hand, and a sob rushed to my throat. 
There
was Sam, in the snow, grinning from ear to ear, his long coat parted
from
his ears to his tail.  Black as midnight, Sam loved a frolic in the
snow.
     He was a drop-off, and I was just home from the hospital.  As my
husband pulled the car to a halt in our driveway, I stepped out and was
assaulted by a pair of huge paws and a wet, lapping tongue.  In less
than a
moment I was sitting on the driveway, receiving the biggest tongue
lashing
of my life!
     My heart leaped right out of my chest and into the heart of that
dog.
In spite of our search for an owner, no one claimed him.
     It was like he had been dropped from heaven -- and maybe he was --
because Sam did more than change my life.  He saved me.
     My convalescence from a serious illness was supposed to take place
at
home, under the tender care of my husband, Louie, a First Class Petty
Officer, in the U.S. Navy.
     Louie had been given 30 days emergency leave from his ship, for
the
sole purpose of caring for me.  I was so thankful as Louie cooked,
cleaned,
and took care of our two teenage daughters.  There was nothing that he
wouldn't do to help me get well.  My doctor had personally spoken to
Louie's Commanding Officer, explaining my illness and need for constant
care.  The C.O. seemed to be right on board with my doctor's
instructions.
     "Of course Petty Officer Lewis will get 30 days emergency leave to
care for his wife," he said.  "All he has to do is check out from the
ship
on Monday morning."
     So, Louie left for the ship, and we were both certain that he
would be
home by noon.  Of course, I could take care of myself for a few hours,
and
I could use that time to get to know my new puppy.
     Noon came and went, and Louie did not come home.  Then it was two
o'clock.  Perhaps he had things to finish up.  Four o'clock arrived. 
Then
five, and six, and seven.
     Finally, the phone rang.
     It was Louie.  He was on the ship, and the ship was leaving.  His
emergency leave had been canceled, and he had only a moment to call and
say
goodbye.  My husband was sick about it, but he had no choice in the
matter.
     What many civilians do not understand is that "emergency leave"
for a
service member is discretionary, depending upon the goodwill of the
Commanding Officer.  So, sick wife or no sick wife, Petty Officer Lewis
was
ordered off his leave and back to duty.
     The ship went out to sea, and I was alone.
     I don't remember much about that week.  I was sick, helpless, and
afraid.
     The only thing I remember is Sam.  He never left my side.  I
stayed on
the couch, except to go to the bathroom.  I don't know if I ate or
drank.
But I can still feel the pressure of Sam's body leaning against my
feet,
and I can still feel the scrape of his tongue on my face.  He hovered
near
me every moment.
     At one point, when I began to lose consciousness, Sam barked
wildly
and began licking my face, bringing me to.  He made me laugh, and I
clung
to the reality of Sam.
     God took care of everything.  When I needed someone, God sent me
Sam.
     In time, I recovered.  And our family was reunited.  Sam remained
a
member of our family, and though it's been ten years since I last saw
him,
Sam will always be a part of my heart.
     I'm certain that Sam is frolicking in some snowy part of heaven,
looking forward to seeing me again.
                                                                                                      

Jaye Lewis