Sunday morning, and we’re still trying to wrap our hearts and heads around losing our Muppet girl, Eowyn. The hurt is still very real. At the same time, we’re making sure the rest of our pack—Sampson, Pax, and especially Aragorn—are showered with love. Aragorn will take time. He has become increasingly clingy, and that’s okay. Being “helped” with every chore and followed everywhere by a four-foot-tall, four-foot-long, 180-pound Irish Wolfhound with a 3 foot long table-clearer tail presents its challenges. But having that giant Muppet lummox beside us is also incredibly comforting. ❤️ And somewhere in the middle of our grief, something extraordinary happened. Our fundraiser ended, and despite everything life threw at us, we not only reached our goal—we surpassed it. We are overwhelmed with gratitude. We felt your love from all around the world as we mourned our Muppet girl, and we felt your support for the work Sampson’s Legacy Foundation continues to do. So now, while we slowly pick up the pieces of our shattered hearts, we begin shifting our sights back toward the mission. There are still doors to open. There are still barriers to break. There are still people and service dogs who need our help. Eowyn was part of this journey, too. And we’ll carry her with us as we keep moving forward. Thank you for loving our pack. Thank you for believing in our mission. And thank you for helping us continue Sampson’s legacy—one paw print at a time. 🐾

Instead of thinking like a human and assuming the worst, today, think like your dog. Assume the best. The bowl isn't empty, it's ready to be filled. The good in the world is everywhere, you just have to sniff it out. So unless you have other plans, have a great day! 🎥 Happy paws #WoofsOfWisdom #AssumeTheBest

We got a boxer on our hands #JaSam #GH

#GH This scene is a GIFT 💝 This scene is a GEM 💎 Why can’t every scene be like this?! Jane elevates every scene she is in to top tier, top notch. 🙌 I loved Tracy and Danny! 🥰 Tracy is also Team Danny 🥰❤️

Like mother like Son 😉 punching a Spencer running they damn mouth runs in the family LOL #GH

I loved this! 🥰 I am not everyone 😉

Thank you to everyone who wrapped us in love and support yesterday. Muppet Eowyn’s passing was completely unexpected—she was only four—and after an incredibly heartbreaking and emotionally exhausting day, today we’re simply taking some time to sit with her memory. 💔 Your words of comfort are bittersweet. As we read through each one, our hearts simultaneously break for what we have lost and soar with gratitude for how deeply you have surrounded us with love. There are so many messages that it will take us some time to read through them all—but we promise we will. Every one of them matters. Many of you have also reached out asking how you can help. Yesterday understandably took us away from the final day of Sampson’s Legacy Foundation’s fundraiser, so we have quietly extended it through Friday night. For those who were already planning to donate or share, the fundraiser will remain open a little longer. There is absolutely no expectation—we simply wanted to provide the opportunity for those who asked. Today, though, we’re giving ourselves permission to just miss our girl. This big girl has left a giant hole in our family and in our hearts. Thank you for the donations and shares, but especially for every message, kind word, and bit of love you sent our way when we needed it most. ❤️ Sampsons Legacy Foundation: givebutter.com/fund-scholars…

Rocco had it coming after that comnent

Welcome October @tuckerbudzyn

This is it. Our LAST DAY. 🐾 And we're $3,999 away from our goal. For weeks, you've watched us ask. You've donated, shared, encouraged us and reminded us why Sampson's legacy matters. So today, we're making one final ask. We don't need one person to give $3,999. We need a community to come together. 40 people giving $100. 80 people giving $50. 160 people giving $25. Or simply share this post and help us reach someone who believes that scientists with disabilities deserve the same opportunity to learn, work and succeed. We've spent nearly 15 years turning “No, you can't bring your service dog into a laboratory” into “Let's figure out how to make this work safely.” Now we're helping the students coming behind us—with scholarships, service dog PPE, advocacy, education and direct support. That's Sampson's true legacy. Not just opening a door. Holding it open for everyone coming behind him. We have until midnight. $3,999. One day. One incredible community. Let's finish this. 🐾💙 Every donation. Every share. Every paw print matters. Help support our mission here: givebutter.com/fund-scholars…

Maybe you're tired of hearing about our fundraiser. We get it. 😂 So today, instead of asking first, we want to show you what you're helping make possible. In the last few years, this little Foundation built around Sampson's legacy has helped turn “service dogs don't belong in laboratories” into real change. Tell us, what part of Sampson's legacy means the most to you? 🐾 We advocated for the CDC/NIH clarification addressing service dog access in laboratories. 🐾 We helped universities develop individualized approaches to laboratory access instead of relying on blanket exclusions. 🐾 We completed an 8-module educational course addressing service dog access—including laboratory environments—for academic and clinical audiences. 🐾 We contributed an invited book chapter addressing disability and service dog access in research. 🐾We're now helping individual service dog teams with laboratory PPE, scholarships, resources and advocacy. 🐾 We provide scholarships for disabled students in science acandemics. 🐾 We provide financial aid and individual support, advocacy and act as liaisons, often free of charge for people with disabilities facing adversity. 🐾 We have traveled over 127,899 miles giving keynotes, conducting lab risk assessments, and often going toe-to-toe with people who think individuals with disabilities should not be in science. And perhaps our favorite measure of progress: universities are contacting us because service dog handlers are entering science programs and need support. That's why we're still asking. We have two days left and $4,490 to go. We're not asking you to fund an idea. We're asking you to help us continue something that's already working. Donate. Share. Comment. Tell someone why Sampson's Legacy matters to you. One voice started this journey. Sampson may be retired now, but he is beside me everyday, Pax travels and supports this mission. This community is what keeps it moving forward—one paw print at a time. 🐾💙 You can donate here: givebutter.com/fund-scholars…

Three days. $4,490 to go. And look how far we’ve come. 🐾 These aren't just adorable dogs in lab coats. They represent opportunity. From advocating for the CDC and NIH clarification that changed how service dog access in laboratories is addressed nationally—to helping individual students with scholarships and financial assistance for the PPE their service dogs need—Sampson’s Legacy Foundation is working at both ends of change. We advocate to change the system. Then we help the individual walking through the door that change opened. Today, more scientists with disabilities have opportunities to learn, research, and contribute to science—and we're working to make sure even more can follow. We have 3 days left and are $4,490 from our fundraising goal. Help us keep paying it forward… one scientist, one service dog, one paw print at a time. 🐾 This is Sampson’s Legacy. Help support our mission here: givebutter.com/fund-scholars…

Sunday morning coffee and a little reflection… ☕🐾 15 years ago: A service dog in a science lab was considered unthinkable. 5 years ago: Professors were still telling me the idea was “ridiculous.” This year: One peer reviewer dismissed my work because, in 40 years of teaching science, “they had never encountered a request for a dog in a lab. The topic is irelevant.” That is not an appropriate peer review, that is a biased opinion. Disregarding that reviewer, the other reviewers offered constructive critique. I revised the paper and resubmitted it. Today: We’re receiving requests for help providing service dog PPE—including requests involving five teams at one university and three at another. That is progress. These dogs in this video aren't an argument about whether service dog handlers belong in science. They're evidence that they are already here. And now Sampson’s Legacy Foundation needs your help making sure they have the equipment and support to stay there. Our fundraiser ends Wednesday, September 30. Every donation helps us turn 15 years of advocacy into access for the next generation. This is Sampson’s legacy. And it’s just getting started. 🐾 Support our mission here: givebutter.com/fund-scholars…

We are 1/2 way to our goal with 5 days left! Help us sponsor service dog personal protective equipment and provide scholarships to students with disabilities! You can help us reach our goal here: givebutter.com/fund-scholars…

Mom was very inspired by @realmikefox's Emmy speech on the 14th, when he accepted the Bob Hope Humanitarian Award. She has thought alot about it, and how it resonated with our efforts to provide support for service dog handlers and people with disabilities in science. To paraphrase his speech, as applicable to our mission, eventually, Mom understood that accepting disability did not mean surrendering to it. It meant recognizing that the path forward might look different—and then doing everything we could to make that path more accessible for those coming behind us. That realization became advocacy. It became challenging barriers, changing policies, creating opportunities, and refusing to accept that disability should determine who gets to pursue an education, build a career, live independently, or make an impact. Sampson’s Legacy Foundation grew from that purpose: to turn lived experience into action for others. Through scholarships, advocacy, education, and support, we work to remove barriers and create opportunities for people with disabilities to pursue their goals on their own terms. None of this work happens alone. It belongs to every donor, advocate, partner, volunteer, service dog team, and person with a disability who has stood beside us—and especially to those who keep pushing forward when the path was never designed with them in mind. Acceptance is not surrender. Sometimes, it is where change begins. Check out what we have accomplished over the years, and our mission moving forward. You have all made this possible! Thank you! sampsonslegacyfoundation.com…

WATCH: Rocco and Scout thwart Charlotte's attempt to entrap Drew... drawing unwanted attention from Carly. #GH

Just a little reminder with a BIG purpose. 🐾💙 We have just 10 DAYS LEFT in our Sampson’s Legacy Foundation fundraiser! Sampson is a Hero Dog to so many! Every shirt, mug, hat, sticker, and every copy of INSISTENT, helps us continue Sampson’s true legacy: Opening doors, breaking barriers, and creating opportunities for people with disabilities! We’re getting closer, but we’re not there yet. Help us finish strong! 🐾 👉 Shop. Share. Donate. Be a part of Sampson’s Legacy. Donate here: givebutter.com/fund-scholars… Shop here: scienceservicedog.com/

Hi. I’m Kuno. If you’re new here, that’s okay. I used to do the talking. Now Chesnyy has the job, and there’s a puppy coming up who is going to need all of you. I just wanted to say hello properly. If I get a little slobber on the booper buttons, that is historically accurate. I’m a black-and-tan Rottweiler from Alberta. As a puppy I had several seizures. That scared people. Some thought it was hormones because I was growing like I had somewhere to be. I outgrew them. Good thing, too, or I would not have been right for the work. The important part is this: my mistress still chose me. She knew about the seizures and picked me anyway. That is the first time somebody looked at me and said I was enough. Her name is Marla. I mostly thought of her as mine. She lost both her legs to sepsis. When she came home, the world had gotten sharper. Not just stairs and snow. Attitudes. The kind where people look at a wheelchair like the person in it is already finished. Like she should be grateful, quiet, and out of the way. I did not like that. I was polite about it. Mostly. We did not start famous. We started with “can you get that?” and “stay with me” and a lot of practice in the living room. I learned to pick up keys. Open doors. Help with transfers. Walk beside the chair without becoming a speed bump. She trained me because the waitlists were years long, and years is a lot of life to spend waiting for help. In 2020 I passed my public access testing and became a government-qualified service dog. One of the first Rotties in Alberta to do that. I was very normal about it. I only thought about it every day. Then the job got real. Sometimes the power chair dug itself into the snow and I had to pull. Snow in the nose. Chair heavier than pride. Sometimes a curb ramp was so dilapidated we got hung up on it, half on the street, half not, while people walked around us like we were a traffic cone with feelings. Those days lived in my shoulders. I still did them. That is what partners do. I could smell when she was in pain. Humans think they hide it. They do not. I would lean in and stay. Late at night I got up to make sure she made it to the bathroom safely, even after a very professional perimeter check. Then bed snacks. The sacred ones. A story. A nibble. Her voice going soft. She told me she loved me over and over and over, like she was afraid I might forget. I never forgot. Sometimes there were tears. I knew the taste of them. I believed she was more beautiful than bacon. I do not say that lightly. Bacon is policy. We had good adventures too. Dog shows. Hotel beds. Hunting for a meatball in a tree in the park, which remains an elite sport. I loved bedtime stories. I adored her singing, even though she sounded like she was related to a cow. I did not mention that while on duty. It seemed unfair. I also had an internet love, @CanadianPenny1. Prettiest pup in Canada. She sent gifts taped like she was defending them from raccoons. Nothing says I love you like bacon, but Penny came close. She is here with me now. Interwoof love counts. I checked. You counted too. Some of you were here from the start. Some of you just got here. Either way, you made a lot possible. Not with speeches. With help, cheering, snacks for the road, and the decision that a woman in a chair and a big Rottie belonged in the middle of things. Community turns a stuck-in-the-snow life into one that still has Sunday breakfasts and little victories. I made it to the top of a snow pile once and decided that was good enough for the day. You were our snow pile people. I am not writing like I just left. I’ve been gone a while. I am checking in. Please keep looking after my person. She is brave and tired and still trying. Please keep cheering Chesnyy. She has my old job and she is doing it for real, not as a photocopy. Please keep raising that puppy like the world-changer he is going to be. He will need manners, naps, and people who believe he is more than a cute caboose. And I need you to know this. I still care about you. There is a superhero in you. Not the cape kind. The kind that holds a door, shares cheese, learns a better attitude, and decides disabled people get to stay in the world. You have the potential to change that world. You can make someone smile. You can make someone’s job easier. You can probably even make bacon. That is a lot of power. Use it kindly. A few woofs, with only a little slobber: Love the one that gives you cheese. A kiss is worth a thousand woofs. Very few things cannot be improved by bacon and nose boops. Celebrate the little victories. Top of the snow pile counts. Don’t give up on your ball. Sitting and staring at the couch will not bring it back. Some see an empty scoop. I see a scoop ready for food. Perspective is everything. You can’t eat the treat if your teeth are still clamped on the old thing. Letting go is a skill. Sleep well to dream big. Morning is for chasing the dream so it has to keep up. Dance like the entire world wants to dance with you. Tail-chasing is cardio. Dream-chasing is the point. Most things can be made better with a treat, an ear rub, and some love. Most of the leftover problems can be made better with a well-timed poop. I stand by this. If this story makes you want to help, help them. Help my mistress. Help Chesnyy. Help the puppy. That is the work now. I already got the grass that never turns to ice, Penny beside me, and the knowledge that I was chosen on purpose. Tell my person I liked the bedtime stories. Tell her I heard every I love you. Tell Chesnyy she is doing fine. Tell the puppy there are meatballs in trees if he looks properly. Tell Penny’s mom and dad she is not lost. She is here, she still knows who loved her first, and I am taking good care of their girl. Thank them for sharing her with the Interwoof, and with me. Tell yourselves I see the good in you. I was a big derpy service dog with opinions, a crush, snow in my whiskers, and a whole Interwoof I loved. You were my people. You still are. — Kuno Black-and-tan. Chosen on purpose. Qualified. Still on your side.

One scholarship can change one life. Together, we can change many. Sampson spent his life opening doors that many believed should remain closed. Today, his legacy lives on by opening those same doors for students with disabilities pursuing careers in science, technology, engineering, and mathematics. Every scholarship awarded is more than financial support—it is an investment in ability, resilience, innovation, and the belief that everyone deserves the opportunity to reach their full potential. Together, we can ensure that Sampson's legacy continues to inspire, empower, and change lives for generations to come. One paw print at a time. Support Sampsons Legacy here: givebutter.com/fund-scholars…

At Ground Zero, after the last living person was pulled out, the search dogs stopped eating. So the police did something nobody had written down in any manual. They climbed into the rubble, lay down, and pretended to be alive. More than 300 dogs worked the World Trade Center site. They came from every corner of the country, on trucks and in cargo holds, with handlers who had been trained to do one thing. Find people who are still breathing under the ground. That is what a search and rescue dog is built for. Not bodies. Life. They are trained on live human scent. When they find it, they bark, they dig, they light up, and the handler rewards them, and the whole thing means something. The last living person recovered from Ground Zero was a woman named Genelle Guzman-McMillan. She had been buried for 27 hours. A dog found her. She was the last. After that, the dogs kept going out on twelve-hour shifts, across sixteen acres of smoldering steel, at temperatures that burned their paws, and they found nobody. Nobody. Day after day. The handlers noticed it first. The dogs were changing. Their tails were down. They were not eating. They would come off the pile and lie flat and not look at anyone. A veterinarian named Cindy Otto, who spent ten days there working night shifts to care for the animals, put it plainly. The dogs had been sent to find life, and every day they were finding the opposite. It was breaking them. An NYPD officer named Famiglietti described what happened next. They pulled everybody off the rubble. Then they asked for volunteers. The volunteers, police officers, went out into the debris and hid themselves. Under beams. In voids. Curled up in pockets of concrete. They were told to lie down like they were hurt. Then the handlers sent the dogs in. Picture that. A grown man with a badge, a man who had spent the last week pulling friends out of that same pile, lying down in it on purpose. Face down. Holding still. Waiting for a dog. And the dog comes over the top of the wreckage, and catches the scent, and barks, and digs, and finds a person who is warm and moving and alive. And the handler says good girl, good boy, and the whole team celebrates. They called them mock finds. They did it for the dogs. They did it so the dogs would remember what they were for. One of those dogs was a two-year-old golden retriever named Bretagne. She came from Texas with her handler, Denise Corliss. It was her first deployment. They worked ten days at Ground Zero. They found no survivors. But firefighters would come off the pile, stone-faced, not speaking, and see the dog, and something would break open in them. They would kneel down. They would put their face in her fur. One day a man walked up to Bretagne and started petting her. He told Corliss his best friend loved golden retrievers. Corliss asked where his friend was. The man pointed at the pile. "He's in there somewhere." He kept petting the dog. Bretagne went on to work Hurricane Katrina and Rita. She retired at 10. She was the last known surviving search dog of 9/11. On June 6, 2016, at age 16, she was carried into a veterinary office in Texas to be put to sleep. Outside, a dozen firefighters from her fire department stood in a line in their dress uniforms, in the heat, and saluted as she went past. They draped her in an American flag on the way out. Three hundred dogs went into that pile looking for the living. They found one. And when they could not find any more, the men they worked beside laid down in the rubble and let themselves be found, so the dogs would not lose heart. That is the whole story of Ground Zero, really. Nobody could save the dead. So they saved each other. 🇺🇸