Sam is a 16-year-old boxer I rescued when he was just over a year old. Do the math: that’s a lot of years, a lot of trails, and a lot of miles logged together.

Sam turned 16 in Jan 2026.

Sam the Adventure

He used to be my adventure dog. Hiking, kayaking, camping: Sam was there for most of it. He never needed convincing. You’d grab the leash and he was already at the door.

On the water, Sam had one move: find me, lay on me, and soak up the sun. Didn’t matter how cramped it got or how awkward the position. That was his spot and he knew it. I made it work because what else are you going to do.

Sam’s first kayaking trip.

He’s even been caving. Hidden River Cave in Kentucky is one of only two commercial caves in the United States that allows dogs. He was hesitant, but with convincing, he made it. There is a suspension bridge underground that he was unsure of. He’s never like suspension bridge or metal stairs, but he made it through. The darkness made it seem less dangerous.

That dog is still in there. But at 16, he’s made his priorities very clear.

Sam the Office Dog

For a stretch of time, Sam wasn’t just my adventure buddy: he was also my office dog. He had a bed under my desk, knew the routine, and made himself right at home. I didn’t bring him everyday, just when the owner was on vacation. He always had his two dogs and they didn’t get along with other dogs for the most part.

Most people were happy to see him. But his absolute favorite? A coworker I’ll call Negative Nancy.

Now, Negative Nancy was true to her name, about 99.9% negative and somehow managing to turn a compliment into a negative one. But Sam didn’t care about any of that. He cared about one thing and it was that she always had treats. As far as he was concerned, she was the best person in the building. Dogs have a way of cutting straight to what matters to them.

He’s also not here by accident. Sam has survived two surgeries. Both times, I wasn’t sure he was going to make it. Both times, he proved me wrong. That stubborn streak runs deep, and I’m grateful for every bit of it.

Sam after his second surgery. It was an emotional day for me and he’s asleep from all the attention.

 

Sam in Retirement

These days, Sam’s idea of a perfect day looks a little different. A warm spot in the sun. A full bowl. Someone nearby to give him the attention he absolutely knows he deserves. He’s traded the trail for the couch, and honestly, I can’t argue with him.

Boxers aren’t known for their long lifespans, so the fact that he’s still here: still stubborn, still food-motivated, still a beer away from losing his mind: is not lost on me. If there’s one within reach, it’s in danger. He has never once turned one down. Every slow morning walk is a good one.

He’s not the adventure buddy he used to be, and that’s okay. He put in the work. He’s earned this.

If you’ve ever had a dog who showed up for every season of your life, you know exactly what I mean. Sam did that. He still does, just at a much slower pace with significantly more napping.

Not a bad retirement plan, honestly.

Sam in retirement napping all day, everyday.