Morgan was companion, pet kid, friend, and confidant to Dr. Samson (Founding Member of VETS Animal Charity).
Morgan was rescued as a pup and spent a lifetime at Dr. Samson’s side, even accompanying him daily to work at Kingston Road Animal Hospital.
Morgan was a gentle soul who was loved by all that crossed his path. He would approve with 2 paws up with VETS Animal Charity helping pet kids in crisis.
If you have a memory to share of Morgan, please email email@example.com
I met Morgan for the first time at my first visit to Kingston Road Animal Hospital in early 2002 for a job interview. I recall taking a few breaths before crossing the threshold of the hospital’s door. As a sill-in-school candidate for an associate position trying to make a good impression, I kept my guard up at all times. Chin up, shoulders back, and colourful chit-chat with the staff.
After a brief tour I was summoned upstairs to see the practice owner. What will I think of him? What will he think of me? No doubt I was nervous and tense.
Up the staircase I went. I could hear scraping in the distance upstairs and the distinct tap of floor contact, but at a very lazy pace. That was odd. If that was the interviewer I’d have guessed he or she was really big. Or, really tired, and not too excited about my visit.
Dr Morris Samson met me at the top of the stairs and we introduced each other. His build and his shoes didn’t match what I heard. It must’ve been entirely in my head.
To the kitchen we went, and the interview commenced. Questions were dutifully followed by answers, back and forth.
Some time into the session, I heard the same scraping and floor tapping, and it was approaching us. In sauntered a 100+ pound black lab who approached me with interested curiosity, tail wagging side to side. “Hi big guy,” I said as I rubbed his head and ears “who are you?”
“This is Morgan,” Morris replied, “he’s my dog and he stays with me here at the hospital”
It didn’t take long for Morgan to accept me. The moment I stopped patting him, he nudged my hand with his head as if saying “I didn’t tell you to stop”. I smiled as I continued to rub his belly.
The interview became a discussion of different topics, politics, hobbies, goals, and such. On the way home I had a good feeling inside.
Months later I asked Morris what helped him decide to hire me over other candidates. He replied that there were several reasons. “What was the clincher?” I asked. “You passed the Morgan test” he replied. “He liked you and that was the rest of what I needed”
Morgan helped open a door for me and into a new-grad associate position at Kingston Road Animal Hospital.
Morgan meant a lot to me. Over the next ten years, he was a permanent fixture at the Hospital. He was the clinic greeter, entertainer, lounger, footwarmer, relationship-maker and comforter to saddened clients of ill patients. He knew what to be, where to be, and how to be. He also knew when it was time to be fed. Always.
Morgan’s passing in July 2012 was difficult for everyone. The void of silence hit us all hard. His food dishes still sit empty the little feeding nook in the kitchen.
Though he’s no longer with us, I still think of him hovering beside me as I sit in the kitchen chair, arm draped over the armrest, waiting to be nudged by a head.
Morgan was my office mate. He was an excellent listener, always knew when just to give me the ‘quit your whining’ look, the ‘I understand’ look or when he needed to actually get up and put his head in my hand. Miss him daily.
When Morgan was just over a year old, he was still pretty uncontrollable, and our cats and he had a tenuous relationship at best. At the time we always made sure he was monitored or crated, for we never trusted what havoc he was capable of.
After reassuring me that affixing Morgan’s leash to the metal kitchen table leg was sufficient, Morris sat down for a snack, and I stretched out on the couch to watch TV.
Within five minutes there was a commotion of such magnitude, that I could only vault up and stand frozen, clutching the sofa arm, slack jawed and wide eyed. It seems that our cat Ricky, knowing full well that Morgan was confined by his leash and feeling a (false) sense of security (and a little bit of evil revenge), sat just out of reach in the dining room doorway, languorously cleaning himself. Morgan, unaware that the leash was meant to set his boundaries, tore off after Ricky, who darted through the dining room, living room and around again into the kitchen to start his second lap.
What I witnessed will be burned into my memory forever….a yowling, scrabbling, cat running full tilt, being chased by a huge, black, barking dog attached to a thick metal table leg, which was pin wheeling behind him, gouging our glorious wooden floors with each turn. Morris was close behind, slipping and sliding while trying desperately to capture the offending table leg, followed by my youngest daughter Cady in her Sailor Moon nightgown, joining the fray and laughing in glee.
To this day, the leg on our table is still affixed backwards (due to Morris’s vast home repair expertise) and wobbles constantly. However, this imperfect table will forever remind me of that perfect, gentle beast whose joy of life abounded and who brought our family such pleasure. He is profoundly missed.
Since I was the one that walked Morgan every morning we spent lots of time together. Normally Morgan didn’t care where he he used the bathroom even urinating while walking down the street. One morning though he became shy and decided he would use the bushes near the plaza. He sniffed and sniffed and finally decided on a private place near the pedestrian door of the underground parking garage. He had just started his crouch and was preparing to fertilize the grass when somebody burst through the pedestrian door making quite a clatter.
Morgan was quite startled and if a dog can look mortified, Morgan looked looked mortified and embarrassed at being caught in the act so to speak. Morgan then looked at the person and barked loudly to show his displeasure at the gentleman being so uncouth. The man left and Morgan sniffed some more and then found an even more private location, did his business, and walked back to the clinic with his head in the air looking quite dignified.