Goodbye, Sam

Ken adopted Sam the cat from the animal shelter in Norfolk, Va. in 1994. She was somewhere between 6 months and a year old then.

I am in ur window, lookin at ur flowerz.

She spent the first 4 years hiding under Ken's bed, coming out to eat. We figured she must have been mistreated, so we let her be.

Eventually she started making more frequent appearances, but she was always the shy cat, never as outgoing as Tigger, the loverboy.

Then she started vocalizing and she had about 15 different kinds of meowls. She liked to talk. Especially at dawn.

Sam was a tortoiseshell, a torty girl, except for 3 white paw spots and a white belly.

She had a flappy belly that hung down and wiggled from side to side when she trotted, so we called her the Fat Girl.

Why yes, this play tent does make a good cat hideout.

Sometimes she would let us pick her up and hold her and rub that flappy belly, but only for limited amounts of time.

I don't know how she came to be called Sam. She was just Sam. Julia decided it was short for Samantha.

She ran away from all visitors, except for anyone allergic to cats.

She had been in declining health lately. She was a 16-year-old (maybe 17) old lady cat. On Sunday, she reached her end.

Goodbye, Sam. You were the Good Cat.