We will never forget you, Sammy

Sammy was found abandoned in a plastic bag. The person that found him brought him to the local shelter where he was adopted by a family with small kids and a dog. Needless to say, traumatized cats don't do well with boisterous families. A couple of months later he ended up back at the shelter and remained there for about a year, until my husband and I found and brought him back to his forever home. The previous family had given him such a daft name, so we changed it to Sammy immediately.

The first two days in our home Sammy hid in one of the lower kitchen cupboards and no amount of cajoling or tuna made him come out. So we kept the cupboard doors open, set out some water and food and hoped he would eventually calm down and come out on his own. I guess it got boring in there, because on the third day he started exploring his new surroundings. Most shelter cats are skittish and it took about a year for Sammy to fully trust us. He bonded with my husband first and spent many happy hours in my husband's mancave thereafter. One day I was sitting on the couch and he jumped up and curled up on my lap. That's when I knew he finally felt safe. Over the years Sammy grew into a quite a large (and heavy) cat. The above photo was taken when he was in his prime. He was unusual in that he didn't display typical cat behavior. He didn't "hunt" flies or other small insects nor was he interested in bird watching. He basically preferred laying in a sun puddle all day watching me! 

He had a few annoying habits, like shredding our soft furnishings, but despite that we loved him to bits and spent many happy years getting to know each other. He was an expressive cat, meowing in agreement (or not) when we were having a conversation - it was too funny. When he slept he snored and the sound was somehow comforting. And most unusual in all the years he never once hissed.  Not once.

Last year we noticed that he was showing signs of old age. We had bought some plush covered little steps to make it easier for him to get up and down from the couch. We exchanged his big litter box for a flat tray as he seems to have difficulty getting in and out. We exchanged the food to an easily digestible one. We spread out blankets and cushions everywhere. 

Then last August we discovered a little lump on his left hip that turned out to be a tumor. He had it surgically removed and sadly it turned out to be malignant. He recovered surprisingly well, the scar had healed nicely and he was basically back to his normal self, when in January I discovered another lump. We were devastated. We went through all the options, then decided on a second surgery. Second time around it took longer for Sammy to recover, so we helped him all we could. Made sure water and food was close by. We took turns checking on him at night. Apart from being a bit wobbly on the legs he seemed to recover bit by bit and even played with his mousie. Then in the last week of January something changed. There was a noticeable decline in his overall health. I think Sammy felt it too, but still fought on like a brave little soldier.

Last week my husband and I had to make one of the most difficult decisions ever. It broke our hearts, but we needed to end the suffering and put our beloved Sammy to sleep. To make matters worse my pain symptoms that I had managed to get down to a tolerable level have come back with a vengeance. I'm up to my eyeballs in painkillers in order to write this blog post. But Sammy deserves a post. I featured him several times on this blog and through him I have met a bunch of wonderful blog friends with pets (you know who you are).

We had the vet come to our house to perform the euthanasia. We laid Sammy on his favorite pillow, gently stroking his furs and talking to him in a calm voice right until the end. It was beyond awful and I had to pull myself together not to break down. We had a proper burial and Sammy is now at peace in our garden beneath the oak tree. It's been almost a week without Sammy and it feels so strange. Apart from us crying in turns it's eerily quiet at our house. So much for a "happy" new year.