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To The Moon and Back, Part 3

Samson and I were at an awkward stage in our relationship. We were both in a limbo state, as his adopters washed out and I was his protector now. For the moment, we were both like a hovering passenger plane waiting for further instructions as to when we could land. Until that happened, both of us had to make the best of the situation.

Easier said than done in Bremerton.

That first night in our Motel 6, the room to my left had a couple doing a break-up. It started around midnight, as a woman and man began to scream at each other. I lay in bed wishing I couldn't hear every syllable of their argument, but because of the high volume with which they chose to display their emotions, I was a hostage to their pain.

It was the typical ending of a relationship, one in which a lot of harsh things were said. At some point Samson began to become stressed and alarmed, but I had him lie next to me on the bed and I began to pet him.

"It's ok," I tried to assure him.

Soon the man stormed from the room and left in something as loud as my car. The woman's words at this point were a mixture of curses and pleadings, as she was clearly both angry and hurt that he had left. The next many minutes I listened to her attempt to woo him back on her phone, which didn't work. At first their fight was rude, then alarming, and now it had dissolved into the realm of pitiful.

I had to listen to a human being bare her soul, her heart, on her phone. I was only privy to her side of the conversation, but she was obviously a deeply wounded person. Her anger would flare and she would call him something like a bastard, only to quickly beg for his return with words that were muted by her sobbing. I felt sorry for her, for him, for all of us.

We live in a broken world that is full of broken relationships. Samson left his home in New Jersey because of a broken relationship. I had come to be part of Amy's life because my first marriage shattered like fine china. So much of life's journey is about that curve in the road, that giant pothole you didn't see coming and that you couldn't avoid. Far too much of our lives is spent managing pain that we miss the rainbow after the storm.

I was more determined than ever to make sure Samson found his pot of gold.

After the fighting ended, and Samson and I fell asleep again, we were woken up to a woman on our right trying to gain access to her room. I can't offer a guess as to what time this was, but I'd suggest that it was sometime after the bars closed, given her high level of intoxication. She began to bang on the door.

"Bruce! Let me in! I forgot my key!"

She banged a few more times and then shuffled off. She must have went down to the office and tried to get another set of door keys, but they must have refused her service, unlike the bartender at her local watering hole. She came back and began to bang on the door some more.

"Bruce! Bruce! Let me in! It's your...roommate!"

Roommate? They were in college together? Some kind of Three's Company situation?

Apparently Bruce decided that his roommate was best left to her own devices, as he never opened the door for her. Eventually she went away.

The next morning, bright and early, my father-in-law Phil came over to help me determine what was wrong with my exhaust. We both looked under the car and saw that the pipe had succumbed to rust, and had snapped just before the catalytic converter. He had looked up a local muffler place, and we decided to try and schedule a repair for the next day.

I brought Samson down, as the plan was for me to bring him over to the in-laws so that I could visit for a bit. I instructed Phil to keep his arms at his sides and let Samson meet him on his own terms. Samson came over, sniffed Phil for a bit, and then Phil petted him for a few strokes along his back. Samson seemed fine for the encounter, and I took him back into the room.

Later that day, I left the motel and drove the short distance to my in-laws. Kitsap County has a population of about 250,000 people, but where they live seemed like it was in the middle of a forest. I pulled into their drive and parked the car. Phil has his office/man cave above the garage, and it seemed like the best place to put Samson for the time being. Phil had a gate he could attach at the top of the stairs leading to his sanctuary, so I took Samson up there and closed the gate, so that I could go down and visit with my family.

That lasted about two minutes.

Samson very quietly leapt over the gate, and we could see him pacing back and forth in the laundry room. I then took Samson back upstairs and stayed with him. Phil scheduled the service on my car for the next day, but the stress of Samson, who was now guarding the man cave as his own, was too much for everyone involved. I took my bud and put him in the back seat of my car. I told my in-laws that, once I got a place for Samson, I would come back and spend time with them. I then drove the two of us back to the motel and booked a room for two nights.

The next day, I took Samson to the muffler place, where the two of us had to wait outside because of Covid rules. It was okay, since the weather was nice and there was ample room for Samson to stretch his legs. Alas, the mechanic informed me that a part he needed wasn't available until tomorrow, and that we would have to come back then to get the pipe repaired.

Ugh.

I drove us back to the motel, but picked up some food along the way. Samson had grown quite fond of fast food on our trip out, so I went to a chain burger joint and picked him up some chicken nuggets, while I got a few things for myself. We went to our room, ate our food, and then crashed on the bed. Samson lay down next to me, his head resting on my chest. We looked at each other and Samson slowly fell asleep on me.

The Corso breed is all about the bonding. It is their nature to distrust a stranger, and to protect that which they love. I am no expert in dog breeds, but I highly doubt there is a breed more loyal than that of a Cane Corso. Samson was letting me know that he fully trusted me now, and that he would do anything for me. I lay there and listened to him snore, and I knew that the feeling was mutual.

To be continued....


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