Book Review: Walks with Sam
However, a catalyst or two always helps. The author, David Berner, simultaneously celebrates a sabbatical from his university teaching position and his 60th birthday. His dog, Sam, is two years old at the time. Sam is a female black golden doodle, and as Berner contemplates their respective ages, he confronts the existential question: Will this be my last dog?
Berner understands that with his sabbatical, he now has the gift of time. He can reflect on life-long questions, big and small, and can appreciate the humor of life’s little absurdities. And he can do it all with Sam at his side. He resolves to walk with Sam every day as part of his sabbatical. Never mind that he walks the residential streets of a Chicago suburb, and not the Pacific Crest Trail; it is a walk nonetheless, worthy of observation and meditation.
A dog rarely walks from point A to point B in a straight line; dogs go where their noses lead them. Although Berner’s musings seem to follow Sam’s lead with an eclectic range of subjects, the walks themselves are noted in chronological order. Eventually, themes begin to emerge.
Walk 2: What We Leave Behind sums up the theme of age and death. Berner’s walk begins with the indignity of following Sam with a plastic bag of dog poop. He thinks about responsibility and what it means to be a good neighbor. Then he comes across the poignant image of a child’s handprint preserved in a section of concrete sidewalk. Don’t we all want to leave our mark in the world?
He writes of yard signs and our complicated relationship with America. He muses about parenting, inspired by a chance encounter with a doe protecting her two fawns. In Walk 8: The Young and the Old, Berner regards the recklessness of youth and deficiencies of age. All we really have is now.
Walk 12: Catch Me if You Can, is self-explanatory. After all, Sam only wants off-leash once in a while. Isn’t that what we all want occasionally?
Walk 22: The Beauty of Bacon is a simple vignette on how to change a dog’s behavior. On the other hand, accepting change in our own human lives is another matter altogether.
What does Sam see? What does she think? Berner asks the questions during Walk 26: In the Eyes. He describes Sam’s eyes as big and round, with black irises, porcelain white sclera, and ridiculously long lashes. Dog and master walk at dusk on a particular evening, and as Berner admires the sunset, he wonders if Sam sees the same thing—the red sky and beauty all around them. But Sam chases yet another squirrel, and Berner concludes that maybe dogs are with us to share something, something pure and real, beyond the “complicated emotions of a human relationship.”
Berner notes a total of 31 walks, each contemplating a different question—some light-hearted, even whimsical, and others more serious. Eventually, he circles back to the two fundamental questions that he asked at the beginning. Who are we, exactly? And perhaps more to the point: Who do we want to be?
Walks with Sam is a short and enjoyable read, yet each walk yields a nugget of insight worthy of further consideration. I recommend this book.