At precisely 4:30 pm on Tuesday, October 21st 2014 SAMMY passed from this world to the next, with Kathy, our veterinarian and your grieving author close by his side. His time with us was over, his journey to the other side of the curtain was just beginning. The needles from the three-shot medications that eased his passage lay silently on the table behind us, providing mute testimony to the final procedure our poor kitty had to endure. SAMMY was finally free of pain, delivered from the insidious diabetes that slowly robbed him of his favorite foods, daily routines and ultimately, what brought us sadly to this day, his mobility. There was never a more loving creature ever created. How he obtained his all-caps name is a wonderful story.
SAMMY would playfully jump up next to my computer, near the left lower portion of my keyboard, gently resting his head down about three rows from the bottom of the device,firmly locking in place the “caps lock” button. I would always gleefully type a few quick lines of gibberish, smile down at him, pet him fondly and then move him about 5 inches west of his current and preferred location. SAMMY would then purr loudly and immediately fall back to sleep.He really enjoyed that game and I treasured those moments fondly…… but they would not last.
Over the course of the past year SAMMY stopped visiting me upstairs in my office, preferring to plant himself squarely in front of the sliding glass door that led to our deck and backyard, not to mention the warm sun that he adored. In that backyard were a cat’s greatest dreams come true. A constant and every-changing visitor list of birds, other cats and critters who came to taste the food and water that I set out for these interlopers every morning before sunrise. One very good friend of SAMMY’s, that we named Midnight, would frequent our deck multiple times a day, always pausing to look directly at SAMMY through the glass,just inches apart. Neither appeared afraid and neither ever uttered a sound. SAMMY would just stare, Midnight simply would eat and then carefully slink back to wherever he chose to wander. Midnight is an outdoor cat, SAMMY, much to his pleasure, was an indoor feline. He preferred it that way.
SAMMY, you see, was a rescue cat; delivered into our home one fine Saturday afternoon in the year 2000. Our daughter, Kristin and I, decided that we needed another cat and under the thinly-veiled disguise of a present to my wife and Kristin’s mother, Kathy, embarked on a lengthy journey to discover the next member of our family. We traveled from shelter to shelter, in an elusive search for that seemingly non-existent feline who would call our house his forever home. Kathy, who I have always dubbed the “perfect picker of animals,” for her uncanny ability to choose just the right one for our eclectic home, rejected each and every kitty that Kristin brought her way. Kathy stated that she would know the perfect cat when she held it, finally and reluctantly agreed to visit just one more shelter, our local SPCA, about 2 miles due east of our house. Kristin and I were losing faith that we would ever bring another critter into our home. But fortune was waiting for us at the SPCA. We did not know how lucky we were about to become.
Our faith was restored at that shelter. While Kristin and I scurried to the kitten section of the shelter, Kathy moved directly to the older cat section. That, we learned over the course of the long Saturday afternoon, was where folks seldom seem to trod in search of a new kitty. Most people, like Kristin and myself, would rush to play with the newest and youngest residents…. the adorable kittens. Kathy always chose to visit the older cats first. She reasoned that they needed the most attention and the most love, since their adoption prospects seemed bleak at best. It was there that she discovered our treasured SAMMY. Kathy found him at the bottom of the first row of older cats. The bond was instantaneous.
As Kristin and I finished our play session with the kittens, we slowly wandered the shelter in search of Kathy. We found her in the older cat section, of course,with a big white feline, over her shoulder, head facing her, rubbing against her cheek. Kristin and I had learned, over the course of several previous searches for a new feline resident of our home, that whenever a critter found his or her way to Kathy’s shoulder, its next destination was certain to be our house. And that was the way with SAMMY, he found his way to our house and also into our hearts.
“You just have to love SAMMY” we told everyone. And it was true. Everyone loved him. He would greet all visitors, animal and human alike, with an enthusiastic head butt that we deduced, came from his time “in the wild.” The kind folks at the SPCA informed us that they had “food trapped” SAMMY near downtown Bethlehem. (We could easily believe that, SAMMY loved to eat!) They estimated his age at just over a year when he came into our lives and we eagerly began our time with the most loving creature that God has ever placed on this earth. SAMMY, we would soon discover, loved EVERYONE. His head butt would greet them, his purring would capture their hearts and his great size belied his true self. He was a gentle giant, a loving, completely white, bundle of of fur. SAMMY’s love knew no bounds.
I am fortunate enough to have a job where I can work from home, so I spend many hours with SAMMY and our other cat, Kato. Kato is also a rescue cat, that I saved from the inside of a soft drink cup in South Texas, where I was working at the time. His personality is the exact opposite of SAMMY’s, but that never did deter SAMMY from always using his head butt technique with Kato. Kato did not seem to mind too much, even he knew that SAMMY was a big bundle of love. SAMMY’s entire day, for that matter, was; love his human and feline family, eat, sleep, do his duty, eat and sleep some more, love his family and then repeat the cycle over and over. We found this routine very acceptable and I suspect that SAMMY did as well. He was one very content kitty.
He was also deemed very brave by our vet, who, unfortunately SAMMY got to know all too well during the last year of his life. In fact, SAMMY even earned two “Bravery Certificates” from the vet staff, for his extraordinary bravery shown during his diabetes testing and treatment. They told us that very few cats ever earn two certificates for bravery, (although I suspect they tell everyone that same story.) What I can relate without a doubt, was that every person at the vet’s office, staff or visitor, it made no difference, would always tell us what a sweet, wonderful and gentle creature SAMMY was. Everyone, without exception, would tell us the exact same thing. They loved SAMMY! How could you not? That gentle giant stole everyone’s heart. And he stole ours, right from that first moment we saw him to yesterday when that huge heart stopped beating forever. I know that because I felt it stop. My hand was right over it when it beat its last. And I cried.
There will never be another cat quite like SAMMY, there just could not be. God broke the mold when he created that marvelous creature. SAMMY was one of a kind, a miracle, a joy to know and love. Every day he would greet us with a purr and his signature head butt and end his day the same way. Even near the end, when his body was failing him at every turn, he never stopped purring and loving. And, during his final trip to the vet, he remained true to his nature. We petted him for what seemed to be hours, awaiting the result of the dreaded blood test, that we knew would seal his fate. We were prepared for the results, but we were not, as well. We knew the prognosis, we listened to it with heavy hearts, knowing that we were doing the best for him….but the absolute worst for us. Together we eased his passage to the next world, with the sure and certain knowledge that we would see him again. The drugs quickly did their job, his heart slowed and then stopped and we were left alone in that tiny room, just Kathy, SAMMY and me. We stayed for a while, but we knew he was somewhere else, we packed up the now empty cat carrier and bolted out the back door.We will return in a few days to gather up the tiny box that will contain the earthy remains of our beloved companion and gently carry him home… one last time.
It has now been less than 12 hours since SAMMY has left us. I find sleep almost impossible, the memories keep flashing before me like an old movie. I try to remember the good times, but I dwell far too long on the last hour of his time with us. I remember his cold nose, his soft and constant purring and his gentle and loving soul. How could a creature who never uttered even one word have taught me so much about what it means to live a good life? He stole my heart and I miss him so much.
My sister, Karen, has offered to set up a memorial for SAMMY at the shelter or home of our choosing. She knows all too well the meaning of pain and loss and her generous heart will surely help us through the worst of the next few days. I suspect we will choose to honor SAMMY at the shelter where we found him, late on that sunny Saturday afternoon. That would be fitting, completing the circle of life… a life like no other. SAMMY the brave, two certificates testify to it. SAMMY the loving, his life and how he lived it is a tribute to it. SAMMY our dear, sweet, adorable kitty. You are home now. No more pain, no more needles, no more dreaded vet visits. Save one more head butt for me, SAMMY. I am sure I will receive it promptly when we meet once again. Love you, SAMMY, stay strong!