When the "boys" were four weeks old, their mother was hit by a car and killed. We bottle fed the "boys" over the weekend, and then introduced them to kitty chow, soaked in milk. They did just fine. Sam is the adventuresome one, climbing in the shrub.
We were able to find homes for three of them, and we kept Sam for our own. We've never had a cat that lasted more than three years--they get killed by cars, or succumb to illness. But Sam is the perfect illustration of the "scaredy cat", and I think that's why he's lasted while the others didn't. He'd always rather run than fight. Perhaps that's due to his being neutered, but I tend to think it's just his character. He's also not a great mouser, but just having a cat in the house helps to keep the mice away.
Sam went through a stage in which
he resembled a teen age boy--all long legs and a skinny, small body on top of them. But over the years he's developed into a beautiful animal. His coloring is gorgeous, with beautiful blue eyes. He's a very graceful animal--yes, I know all cats are graceful, but Sam even more so. When he sits down, his paws are neatly placed together, and his tail curls precisely round his feet.
Sam likes to be where I am. If go into my sewing room, he'll soon show up there. Greet me, need a few caresses, and then he'll lie down somewhere close to me.
If I'm sitting on the couch reading, and that covers a lot of the time, Sam is there beside me. But it's often not quite enough just to be together on the couch. Sam extends a paw just far enough to touch my leg as we relax together. If I put my hand over his paw, he withdraws it. We do these things by his rules, not mine.
But he's been part of the family for so long now, we have well established routines, and that's what we stick with. I wonder how long Sam will be with us?