Meet Sammie Grace.Sammie is one of 3 cats in my household, my only 'daughter'. She's so cute and adorable (moreso in person) that you just can't help but pet and ogle over her every time she's near. She is an adoptee, and this is how she came to join the family:
When I lived in my previous residence (a mobile home, adjacent to the one I live in now), I used to feed the neighborhood cats on my front walk. As fall gave way to winter, I noticed one little orange kitty that didn't appear to have an owner. It seemed she was living underneath my mobile home, coming out only to seek out food. I would peek out the window to find the orange kitty just sitting on the walk, eyes fixated on my front door--rain, sleet, or snow--waiting for more food. Trying to get kitty to stay dry, I would bring food out to my dilapidated shed trying to convince it that it didn't need to be wet. Silly kitty. And on more than one occasion, I'd caught the other neighborhood cats attacking orange kitty. Poor kitty. Somewhere there in time, I decided kitty needed a name. Since I didn't know if it was a boy or girl, I dubbed it Sammie.
One morning when I woke up and looked out the window, there it was on the walk, covered in snow and letting the big flakes just keep on coming. It was like she was so terribly desperate that the snow didn't matter. The boyfriend and I decided we had to do something with this poor kitty--especially since over the coming weekend the temperature was going to dip below zero.
So I decided I'd try and befriend Sammie, bring it in my house for the weekend, and then boot it out on Tuesday (should have know how that would go). Previously, it had run away at any attempt to touch or get near it, but it was getting better, only running a few feet--pausing just out of reach but acting like it really wanted contact. The evening prior to the cold snap, Sammie was no where around! I called and called until it was my own bedtime, and I was too cold to call anymore. I was pretty distraught--poor kitty, I should've nabbed it sooner. The boyfriend works nights, and stops in afterward to tuck me in/kiss me good night, even thought I'm already fast asleep. When he came in that night, I woke up to tell him I couldn't find the kitty. "It's out there now," he said. I hopped out of bed, "Then go get it!" He got it in the house, it ate, we all went to sleep.
The next day being Friday, I'd have to be gone all day. I decided to lock Sammie in the bathroom while I was gone. Poor kitty scratched frantically at the door--it hated being locked up. Too bad, I thought, better to be locked up than frozen solid dead outdoors. Upon my return, I found Sammie in my living room. As soon as Sammie saw me, the kitty disappeared down the flipped open heat register on my living room floor. I can imagine the look on my face. What the ---?! Turns out, Sammie has pawed the furnace register up in the bathroom, crawled through the ductwork, pawed open the living room register (neither were screwed down) to escape the bathroom. What a smart cat!
Over the next few days, we determined Sammie was a girl, not fully grown, was full of scratch wounds from the other cats, and she had something wrong with her mouth and one eye. The mouth thing was apparent while she was outside--it seemed to droop on one side, and she had a scar along her face. Her left eye was very cloudy. Poor baby! There was no way I could let her go back outside! The boyfriend and I decided to adopt her--I'd have custody, he'd have visitation, lol. He took her to the vet to get her checked out. Turns out she has one tooth (a front fang) and is blind in one eye. She was older than originally thought, as she's already been spayed. She'd been very badly abused. Our hearts just broke.
At first she didn't get along too well with my other 2 cats. I slept nearly every night for 3 months on the couch with her, so she would stop attacking them at night (if I took her to bed, she would "guard" the room going nuts if another cat entered, if I locked her out she would cry incessantly). However, that didn't work. She would wake several times each night and wreak havoc. Now that I've moved we have a system: each night I shut the bedroom door, alternating between Sammie and the other two cats getting shut in with me. SLEEP! At last! Those first few months, I questioned my decision to take her in over and over. 'Twas rough going. She still attacks my cats, but not near as often--mostly just growls and hisses these days. They pick back at her sometimes and I hate it. Her mouth has since healed--it looks normal except for the scarring on her face. Even straight canned food is difficult for her to eat, so each week I literally whip 5 or 6 cans of food for her in the food processor, hehe. Her skin scratches have healed completely.
Now she's just my little princess. I gave her a middle name as to be more feminine--she is such a prissy girl. Spoiled rotten and always has to be near mommy--mommy lets her get away with murder.
And that's the long-winded, grammatically incorrect, written-in-more-than-one-tense story of how Sammie became my little girl!
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