Sammy
Frankie had been part of the family for about 6 months when Sammy came along. I was feeling guilty about leaving Frankie alone all day while Bill and I were at work. I had read that cats like companionship so the Thursday before Memorial Day in 2004, I was off to the Humane Society again! But this time, I was on a quest for a black cat.
I toured the kitty room and found a couple of little black kitties, but they didn't seem to be for me. I was almost ready to leave when I saw a room a little further down the hall and it had a sign on the door with a cat on it. It turned out to be the "sick kitty" room. It is where they keep all the kitties that have upper respiratory infections (URI) or are recovering from surgery. That's where I found Sammy. His paperwork was missing so I wasn't sure what his story was. I inquired about him and learned that he indeed was a URI kitty. He surely didn't seem sick, though. He was a ball of fire! As it turns out, they had taken his paperwork off his cage because he had torn it up! That should have been a sign.
Little Sammy
I figured that from my experience with Frankie, I knew how to take care of a URI kitty and could handle another one. So, home I went, this time pre-armed with antibiotics and another kitten in a cardboard carrier. I prepared myself to take care of a sick kitty, but Sammy never really got sick other than having a runny nose. Actually, he was quite the contrary. I was starting to wonder if I'd brought home a little demon. I had to keep him separate from Frankie for awhile (so Frankie wouldn't get sick again) so I kept Sammy in the guest bedroom. Each time I'd go in and try to play or cuddle with him, he would run around and go crazy biting and scratching with his little razor sharp kitten claws. I knew he was just playing, but I wasn't used to it since Frankie was much more docile. My hands constantly looked like I'd stuck them in a briar bush and I contemplated trying to find Sammy another home - or at least changing his name to Edward Scissorhands - but there was something about his wild attitude that charmed and annoyed me at the same time.
I wasn't sure how Frankie and Sammy would get along, but all it took was a smack on Sammy's head from Frankie to figure out who ruled the roost, and then they became pals. They would get into fur-flying fights occassionally (and still do), but for the most part, they got along. Frankie was older, a little bigger and clearly the dominant cat, despite Sammy's tazmanian devil antics. I used to tell Frankie, "Now you be nice to Sammy. One day he will be your size." I was wrong. Sammy WAY outgrew Frankie. These days, our little butterball weighs in at about 25 pounds, compared to Frankie's 10 pounds.
Along with Sammy's increased appetite came a very laid-back attitude. He is now the most loving cat I've ever met. He's never met a stranger, but he especially loves Bill. Whereas Frankie and I are morning snugglers, Bill and Sammy are evening snugglers. Sammy will let Bill know when it's time to go to bed by standing in his office and meowing until Bill goes downstairs. Sammy will snuggle up to Bill, wrap his paws around Bill's arm and go to sleep. Sometimes he hugs Bill's arm really tight. It's one of the cutest things I've ever seen. He never bites or scratches anymore. So I guess I'm saying that I'm REALLY glad we kept him.
Bill and his snuggle puss on Valentine's Day.
Sammy's Photo Album
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| He pretends he's a hunter - but wouldn't hurt a fly. | Coming in from a barn adventure. |
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| More than likely watching a bird. | Helping make the bed. |
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| He likes to watch me cook. | Caught in the act! |