He is a funny cat. Funny as in odd, not as in stand-up comedian. He adopted us the year that Pennsylvania got hit by a hurricane. Sam came out of the woods a week or two before and quickly set up residence in the spare room of the garage. Poor baby didn't even have a litter box when the rains hit that year....you could practically see him crossing his hind legs that day! He would have washed away if he'd even attempted to leave the breezeway. And ever since, he was mine. We made sure he was loved and fed and even gave him a nightlight. Yes, a nightlight. In retrospect, you might say I was setting him up to be odd. But once Sam moved into the house we attempted to scar him in a variety of ways....all unintentional. He had been fearless while outside, treeing squirrels three times his side, running around like a crazy thing, not coming home when I called. But once inside, he became a pansy.
The two times we attempted going back outside were disasters.
The first involved an ill-timed wheelbarrow, a closed front door, Sam biting The Mother of All of Us, and a puffball of a cat fleeing into the woods. I sat on the back hill shaking a food bowl and crying. He was still so little and he didn't have any claws! What would he do if he was threatened? What would I do if he never came home? About half an hour after I gave up, he was back at the door with a touch of crazy about the eyes pleading to come back in. He smelled and had something all over his fur, but he was back inside. He also eyed us warily for the next day.
The second time was not long after that and The Mother of All of Us had bought a leash for him. Yes, we now know this had disaster written all over it from the start. This time, we harness him up and go outside. He becomes frantic immediately. As we had learned from our mistakes the last time, one of us was holding open the door to the house. We let Sam go as soon as he was back over the threshold. The idea in both our heads was that he would just calm down. Immediately. When, in fact, he continued to streak through the house and down the basement stairs, leash and harness chasing him. You could hear the path of destruction as he ran, bottles, brooms, boxes and bags all falling, tumbling and crashing (depending upon their contents) to the floor. It took forever to coax him out of the basement and even longer to remove the harness.
It was around this time that Sam developed two of his rather entertaining tics....not sure how, but I am convinced they are related to the harness incident. He has a phobia of shoes that he does not know. Literally. If you wear a new pair of shoes and he does not recognize them, he will run from you until he hears you saying "Sam, Sam, it's me! Look up here!" Once he looks at the familiar face he acts as though nothing is out of the ordinary. He also has a deep-rooted distrust of plastic bags and wind pants. These can sound similar, so I guess there's a link there.
But for all his foibles, he is my favoritest thing in the world. He is a love monster - when I am home and able to see him, he will let me pet him for hours sometimes. He loves to have his belly rubbed...maybe he's part canine? He purrs and purrs and purrs while shedding an insane amount of fur. I tell him I know no one else loves on him when I'm gone. He puts up with Zippy and Boo, both of whom attack him at the least opportune of times, he sits with a quiet look of resignation while Boo yowls in his ear, he can be counted upon to go and find Boo when he gets lost in the house (which happens often despite the fact he's been inside 12 years) and can make sure Zippy is behaving when asked too (she is usually not).
PT Girl has a dark and twisted past involving the feline species and a not named member of her family. So even if I could inflict the cruelty of transporting Sam across the country, away from his counterparts in terror (the aforementioned Boo and Zippy), into an apartment with all new sounds to be terrified of, PT Girl would have boarded the door over and Sam and I would have no option but to become nomads. Again, not a great outcome considering the large number of unknown shoes we would come in contact with.
So I have recently started volunteering with a cat rescue group. If you know anyone who is looking for a cat or two (they have lots of sibling pairs), please check out http://www.classycats.org/
The cats thank you in advance.
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