The following is an account written by my mother about her "babysitting" experience with Samson for about two hours:

  I want to tell you about the adventure your puppy took me on after you left for karate class tonight.  He spent about a minute staring at the front door hoping that you would come back in. He whined at the door and looked at me hoping I would let him out, but I didn't.  So he gave up waiting at the door for you and then searched the downstairs for you.  At least he searched the rooms he is allowed into.  He went to the bottom of the stairs and whined for you, but you didn't come down.  He stared at the front door a bit more and whined and looked at me pointedly, but I wouldn't let him out.  He walked into the family room where I was on the computer and pretended he was going to pee on the carpet beside me.  Of course I jumped up and shouted "NO" at him and picked him up and put him outside the front door.  He got what he had been begging for.  He ran out to the front yard and stared at the driveway ( maybe looking for your truck?).  Then he looked back at me and I looked at HIM pointedly and said, "Go potty."  So he made a piddle, then he went out in the snow drifted in the yard and laid down and stared at the driveway, obviously waiting for something... like you.

    I called him and told him to come to me.  He laid in the snow, ignoring me.  I presume he was waiting for you.  I went in the house to find the leash, but couldn't find it.  I checked him and he hadn't moved an inch.  I called him again, he ignored me again.  I went back in the house and got my boots.  I went back out, he hadn't budged, and I called him again.  He ignored me again.  I waded through the snow toward him, he watched me, but wouldn't budge.  I picked him up.  He didn't fight me, but he did make me carry him all the way back in the front door.  I was a bit upset that he hadn't come to me when I called him, and I was afraid he would keep "leaking" on the carpet to get me to put him outside.  So I decided to put him in the kennel out back.  I know he had never been in it before, but I figured he could lay in the snow in the kennel as easily as the snow in the front yard.  And I would know with confidence that he couldn't run away from me or soil my carpet, either one.

     I put him down beside the kennel.  I opened the door and I went inside.  He didn't follow, he sat and looked at me like I was a crazy lady.  So I picked him up and carried him in.  I put him down and made a quick exit, closing the door behind me.  I went in the house.  He watched me for a few seconds as I took my boots off.  He could see me through the glass.  Then he seemed to realize I was going to leave him there.  He started to whine.  I walked away.  Then I spent the next 15-20 minutes listening to him whine and cry and howl and carry on like he was DYING. Oh my, he did put up a racket.  I didn't want him to think that I would comeget him if he was loud, so I waited for him to be quiet.  Just as it began to get dark, he did calm down and got quiet.  I went out and got the grateful dog out of the kennel.  He went in the house right away.  I didn't have to call him to come with me.  He helped me out by licking me all over my face and hands and neck while I tried to take my boots off.

     I was fooled into thinking all was well between us.  But he had another trick to put me in my place.  He came into the family room with me and promptly leaped at the couch, placing his two front paws on the seat.  I shouted, "NO!!"  He got down, looked soberly into my eyes, then slowly placed one front paw back on the couch.  With an even more menacing voice and serious face I leaned down closer to him and said, "No!! Bad dog!"  He slinked his paw down, his ears drooped down, he shrunk down several inches as he sat in front of me.  He eyes lost their challenge and he looked so very, very sad.  I petted him and we must have made up, because he didn't touch the couch again.  He did spend some time then chewing his rawhide bone.  It distracted him for some while and he was quite content and happy.  He didn't beg to go out again, and he didn't touch the couch and he didn't pee or pretend to on the carpet.  He played with his rawhide bone until he began to get sleepy.  I thought he had forgotten you had left him, but he went over to the front door again and looked at it and looked up the stairs and although he didn't whine... he did look so very dejected. Taking some pity on the poor baby, I went upstairs and got your pajama bottoms and put them by the front door.  He laid on them and fell sound asleep.

     He had a nice nap, but woke up when I went to the kitchen a bit later.  He trotted out to see what I was up to.  He begged at the sink, so I gave him a nice drink.  He was being sweet and happy and affectionate.  I opened the fridge and he was curious and sat in front of it, right in the way so I couldn't shut the door at first.  I thought I was sneaking a little bit of deli chicken out to play "Sit" with him, but he must have smelled it because he began to sniff all around the fridge on the floor.  He was looking for the chicken, but he was so intense about it that he couldn't stop to come see what I had for him... like... the chicken.  It was funny.  But I finally did get his attention.  He stared intently at the little piece of chicken in my hand, but he didn't jump.  I could tell I now had his attention and he was listening.  I said, "Samson... SIT!"  And immediately his rear haunches hit the floor.  Even then he did not snap at the treat or jump up for it.  He waited for me to give it to him.  He did this trick perfectly four times in a row.  Oh, actually I should say five times in a row.  Once he sat before I told him to, obviously in anticipation of a treat, but I didn't reward him for that.
    That is when you came home, and rang the doorbell to get in.  (Sorry! I like to lock the door when I'm alone.  Samson isn't much of a watchdog yet.)  Samson didn't even run for the door or anything.  He was still happily following me around the kitchen.  Anyway, you came in on a happy scene with your happy dog and your delighted mother.  But just so you know, the whole two hours wasn't quite that happy.  And just so you know, your puppy did miss you terribly.  And so ends my first babysitting adventure with Samson.  I'm guessing next time will be easier for him... and for me.  You can be assured that he most certainly knows who his owner is.... as evidenced by his joyful greeting of you when you returned and by the behavior you didn't see when you left.  :)