Sammy Cat

It’s strange how the loss of one pet out of three creates such a startling difference and sense of emptiness in a house.  I am familiar with grief and I know that for me it comes in waves of memories which trigger quick smiles, followed by regret and pain.  So I am so NOT looking forward to waking up in the morning and having to remember that Sammy isn’t here.  One of the worst parts of grief is the illusion of contentment that sleep provides.  But tonight I realized there is an actual task that has been keeping me from sleep: I found myself desperate to remember everything about Sammy so that I didn’t forget.  As usual, writing about it allowed me some small release. So, here are some things that I want to remember about my friend:

1.      When Sammy slept on my back (which was most nights) and I needed to roll over, I would move a tiny bit to warn her.  Then she would stand, and I would slowly roll while she barrel walked until I repositioned. Then she would settle back in.

2.      She didn’t like to drink out of a cup if it was too deep, so she would dip her paw into the cup and lick, and then repeat.  “Dip and lick.” A move similar to the “bend and snap.”

3.      She would sit on my lap and purr and purr but then suddenly bite my elbow for no reason.

4.      If you walked in a room and she thought you might not see her, she would go “pprraww!”  Which translates to “I’m here, see me!”

5.      She liked to bite plastic, usually a zip lock bag or the shower curtain.  She didn’t eat it, but she would just puncture a gazillion holes in it with her teeth.

6.      If you were holding her or if she was sleeping on your chest, she would like to put her paw over your mouth.  I think this was some kind of ownership/dominance ritual.

7.      We would “scoop” her, and she would tolerate it only for a short period of time, but you never know how long.  She would start going “mah” when she was over it.

8.      Sometimes she would like for me to hold her paw, like we were holding hands, and it made her purr.

9.      Sammy tolerated her way through many of my breakups, but she seemed to echo my  own feelings when she adopted Cristy as her official second human.   Over anyone else, Sammy, like me, felt Cristy was a permanent match.

I have two crushing regrets [despite my beloved RENT telling me "forget regret"] in my mind. One is that I didn't fully appreciate that petting a demanding Sammy was more important than playing games on my phone.  And secondly that I didn't set aside my own selfishness and go back to the room with Sammy during her last moments.  I wish I had been more brave so that I could have given her some final comfort, but I did not want to remember her that way.  Cherish your loved ones, pets, family, children and anyone or anything that makes you happy.  Everything in our lives is ever changing and nothing is guaranteed.  But I am comforted knowing that I am happy Sammy was a part of my life; I would rather have known her and lost her, than never known her at all.