R.I.P., Sam

There are tears on my cheeks right now. Our cat Sam was just put down. The last two weeks he struggled with pain. As long as he sat perfectly still he was all right, but getting up or down caused him to cry. For a little bit we thought he was getting better, but this weekend he took a sharp turn for the worse. His cries of pain were piteous. So we made the hard decision and had him put down this morning.

I will miss him! He was very attached to me, since his mother died when he was only four weeks old, and I took care of him after that. He hadn't had enough nursing, though he was able to lap up enough moisture and eat kitten chow. So for a while he loved to sit on my lap and nuzzle the little pads on my palms just beneath each finger. I actually had to wean him from that by hiding my hands for a while.

Wherever I went in the house, Sam soon showed up. He couldn't be denied when he wanted to go through his greeting ritual. But once he had enough petting and purring, he'd settle down somewhere near and keep me company. He was a good house cat, and never made messes.

Sam really hated wind, rain and snow, but in the summer he spent huge amounts of time outside, roaming around our acreage. When we first lived here I would call to him in the evening, and he would come running. At that time I wanted to keep him safe from the coyotes that come right on our yard during the night. But later both he and our dog Honey somehow knew how to stay outside all night and not tangle with the wildlife.

Sam was a beautiful cat and lived with us for fourteen and a half years. By far the longest any of our cats have survived. So here's to Sam, a beautiful, graceful creature who was close to my heart.