Samson, 1998-2011

[Kate Jones]

I never did post about him much, because he just wasn't as photogenic as Loiosh or as loving as Chocolate. In fact, he hated all humanity and barely tolerated me. But I loved him, and he was as sweet as his nature allowed him to be.

I let Samson go today. It wouldn't have been a kindness to make him stay longer and he wasn't getting any better. But I don't want to talk about his death; I want to talk about his life.

I called him Samson Hatesyouall because, well, he did. He didn't get enough exposure to humans while he was young enough to be socialized and he never decided to change his mind later on, as some cats do. He tolerated me, though, put up with me occasionally petting him and even demanding snuggles. With ill grace, but he never did actually kill me.



But he loved the other cats. He loved Chocolate, who's his brother, and as unlike a brother as you can get. Chocolate weighs barely half of what Samson did at his prime.



But they were always close, snuggling up together, fighting like, well, brothers.



And he loved Loiosh.



Oh, did he love that kitten.



Loiosh stole his heart within days. I'd worried about bringing him home and Samson was most of what I was worried about -- earlier attempts to introduce him to other cats had always failed and done so spectacularly. But Loiosh? Samson snuggled him, washed him, raised him.

Even when Loiosh had reached his full growth of holy-hell-how-big-are-you-NOW he'd still slink up to Samson, eyes squeezed shut, ears and whiskers tucked back, and weasel his head in underneath Samson's chin, demanding kisses. And Samson would half-close his eyes and wash Loiosh, and wash him and wash him.

And soon enough they'd be beating the crap out of each other, but that's the ways of cats.

While I can't say he ever liked me he did want to stay...not close, but usually in the same room I was in. I'd find him on the shelves that held my boxes, in my lightbox (repeatedly), or, memorably, enjoying a catnip toy nearly at my feet.







He spent a lot of the last couple days under my desk. I left him mostly alone under there -- didn't want to stress him more than he already was -- but it was good to know he found some comfort in being near me...even if not too near.

He had the chance to say goodbye to both Loiosh and Chocolate before it was time to take him in, and I'm glad. They're going to miss their brother...and despite the part where he hated me, so will I.

[Kate Jones]

Yeah...me, too. I miss him. The other cats are taking good care of me, though.

[Rev. Allen M. Drago ~ Traveler]

Cat Poem

They will not go quietly,
the cats who've shared our lives.
In suptle ways they let us know
their spirit still survives.
Old habits still make us think
we hear a meow at the door.
Or step back when we drop
a tasty morsel on the floor.
Our feet still go around the place
the food dish used to be,
And, sometimes, coming home at night,
we miss them terribly.
And although time may bring new friends
and a new food dish to fill,
That one place in our hearts
belongs to them. . . and always will.

by Linda Barnes