Five weeks old. If I knew then what I know today, I would have never taken her that day. I should have given her another three weeks so she could get the nourishment and training that a little kitten so desperately needs from her momma. Yet, she was so sweet as she came bursting through the doorway with her brothers and sisters, little blue and pink ribbons tied around their necks so we could know whether they were male or female. I had a hard time choosing which kitten I wanted, but finally decided on her because she was friendly and did not try to run away when I picked her up. I paid the lady for the kitten and drove home with the itty bitty thing on my lap. It was on that ride back that I decided I would call her Samantha, Sammy for short.
The first week with Sammy was rough. She missed her momma and siblings and cried every night. She had not mastered eating dry food very well and picked at it, looking at me miserably, wondering why I did not help her. I tried watering it down so it could soften, which helped a little. In an effort to comfort herself, she found that the nook of my neck, under my long hair, reminded her of the one she missed, and spent the nights tucked in near my head. It did not take me long to realize she was actually licking my hair, but the wetness did not seem to bother me. In fact, I loved hearing her purr near my ear. I had become Sam's momma now.
She survived that first week, even though she became unkempt and quite skinny, but soon survival took over and she learned how to groom herself. It did not take long for her before she became the sleek siamese. Samantha was beautiful and everyone who saw her would agree, though they would always ask if siamese cats were as tempermental as they say. I would just smile and nod. She sure did have a distinct personality!
I decided to let her have one litter of kittens, just so I could have the experience of having little kittens running around the house. I also wanted to make some money and earn back what it took to buy her, and have her earn her keep. I was off at a friend's house when I got the call from my brother that Sammy was in labor and had already had two kittens. I had hoped she would have them in my room, but she found a better place, much to my mom's displeasure, and nestled down in a box in my parent's closet. I rushed home and knelt down by the box, petting Sammy and congratulating her. I never knew a cat could smile, but I believe she actually smiled at me as she purred happily. She seemed to say, "Look at what I did!" I was able to witness two more kittens enter the world, then she decided to have one last one during the middle of the night.
Sammy was the best mother in the world. She always perked up when I walked into the room and was pleased to let me touch her babies. See, I was Sam's favorite person and though she tolerated everyone else, to her I was her mother. Because of this, my mother told me to get the kittens out of her room because she hated hearing the loud meows at night every time Sam left or came back to her nest. I tried moving the kittens to my room, but Sam would not have any of it. She picked up the kitten by the scruff of the neck and ran back upstairs and plopped him right back in with the others.
The first time she actually attacked someone was soon after she had decided to move the kittens to a closet underneath the stairs. It made it quite difficult for us to visit the kittens because of all the stuff in the way, but I managed to clear out some things and make a path to her nest. I had a friend come and visit, and I proudly showed her the kittens and gave one to her to hold. I glanced at Sammy and noticed she had an evil gleam in her eye. I made some sort of comment to my friend about Sammy not liking it, and she laughed, while still holding the kitten. Suddenly, Sammy lunged forward and in a panic, my friend tossed the kitten to me and leaped onto the large freezer we had on the opposite wall. Sammy did not settle down until I put the kitten back and we snuck out of there, laughing nervously.
Later on that night, I was in the bathroom brushing my teeth when I heard a loud commotion in the other room. "What are you yelling about?" I called out to my friend.
"That's not me! That's the cat screaming! She's got me cornered!" It was a matter of life and death!
I raced into the other room. I was shocked to find Sammy hissing, spitting, and screeching at my friend who was cowering in the corner. Sam's hair stood on end. Her tail was three times the size it normally was, and she was carrying on as if my friend had kidnapped her babies! I shooed the cat away and quickly led my friend to my room and closed the door. Needless to say she stayed completely out of the way of the cat after that.
A little neighbor girl came over to play one day soon after, and Sammy decided she was a threat and scratched her legs all up. She was okay, but I knew we needed to do something about this overprotective mommy. Another one of my friends came over and decided she would take matters into her own hands. She piled on layers of clothes, along with a snowsuit, hats, and mittens, then climbed under the covers of the bed and hid. "Open the door and let her in!" She called. "I want to see if she will attack me!"
Sammy ran into the room, and leaped onto the bed. She sniffed around the covers, but decided it was not worth the effort and went back to her kittens. My friend came out victorious! I still thought it necessary to take precautions, because not everyone would come in wearing that many layers of clothing! I decided to make a sign which read: Beward of the attack cat! and I placed it in the garden near the walkway.
Sammy settled down after the kittens left, though I did keep the sign out front for quite a while. According to my sisters, it was a good excuse to keep the nerdy guys from calling on me during the summer, and once my sister even tossed the cat at a guy whom she did not particularly like, in hopes that he would leave me alone.
I left Sammy behind when I got married. I was afraid to take her away from the home she knew and loved. My baby sister became her new favorite. I missed my siamese, but knew it was best to leave her there. There was lots more country to explore, and she would not be able to go outside in Connecticut.
Sammy is now eighteen years old. I saw her just the other week when I went to visit my family. She has become quite skinny now, her eyes are always tearing up, her nose is stuffed up, and she is completely deaf. I have a feeling she will not be around much longer, so I spent some quality time with her. I do not know if she remembered me. Maybe she did, but chooses not to show it. Maybe she harbors a grudge for me leaving her so long ago. Whatever the case, I know I will always smile at the memory of her funny antics as she danced in front of the stairs or came pouncing out from behind my bed spread. I will frown in sorrow as I remember the humming bird she caught outside the front of our house. I will giggle as I remember her dashing out the front door in hopes to be free from the leash we used to put her on before we gave her the freedom of running loose outside. She always hid under the car just out of reach. She was a sly one, that Sam I Am.
I have heard it said that once you have a siamese, you will always want to have one around. It is so true. Once again I own a siamese with plenty of personality. She does not have the attack side of her, thank the Lord, but she does love me dearly. She is my shadow, and I love having her around. She reminds me of my first 'cat love', Samantha. May she give me lots of warm cuddles and love, just as my Sam used to do. Thank the Lord for wonderful siamese cats! :)