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In Loving Memory of Sam [1]

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Date: 2023-12-27  

My long-time fuzzy companion, Sam, died on the day after Christmas. He had been in moderately poor health for some time, largely due to his age (roughly nineteen at death), but he was still hanging on until just a few days ago. Due to family circumstances, I couldn’t take him to the vet the day before Christmas Eve, and the vet was closed both of the following days. By the day after Christmas, his health was too poor and he couldn’t keep going.

Sam was one of the most affectionate cats I’ve ever known. He was very much a lap cat, always wanting up in my lap, and he slept next to my pillow each night. He had a purr that you could hear from half a room away. He even liked lying upside down on my lap and getting his belly fur rubbed, which is pretty unusual for any cat.

One of his idiosyncrasies was that he was not at all fond of wet food. I liked to joke that he would mostly lick at it hopefully before leaving it for one of the other cats. He ate dry food by preference, and was very enthusiastic about treats. He was never happier than when he was next to me.

This is far from the only time the three of them were cuddled up where I sleep. ^_^

He’s survived by Loki (orange) and Graybell. The three of them are all different ages; Sam was nineteen, Loki eight, and Graybell two, but they got along quite well.

Graybell, especially, was quite friendly towards the old guy, giving him head bumps and being polite and waiting rather than trying to push Sam out of the way when the food was served.

Loki was less respectful, but then, he’d literally known Sam since he was like three months old. He used to play with Sam all the time, who accepted it with good grace (until Loki got a little too enthusiastic, anyway, at which point he’d beat a hasty retreat.

And I miss him so much. So do Graybell and Loki. Cats may not grieve the way humans do, but they most definitely do grieve. I’m not sure if they understand what happened, but they undoubtedly know that Sam was very sick at the end, and I expect they know that he’s passed on.

They’re on top of the blanket I used to help keep Sam warm at the end of his life.

The picture of the two of them on the blanket I used to keep Sam warm is proof enough of that — those two seldom are willing to stay near each other, but at any given time, I’ll find one or both of them hanging out on it.

I sometimes nicknamed him my “wonderful white cat”, because he was. I’ve never known a cat with as good a temper as him. And though his life may have ended, he still lives in my heart, and always will.

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