|Sam, The Cat|
|Tuesday, 09 November 2004 00:00|
Sam turned nine on September 27th. We didn't acknowledge her big day and we didn't throw her a party but she turned nine years old just the same. When we got her she was a very tiny, nine week old kitten and she resembled a scrawny bat because her ears were huge. She was terrified to be taken away from her cosy home with her mother and brothers and sisters to a big empty house with three annoying dogs. It was a snowy winter and we owned a wonderful cottage at Gloucester Pool at the time, accessible only by snowmobile. She came from a small town over near Ottawa and by the time we got back to the house, it was time to go to the cottage for the weekend. We introduced her to our bedroom, where she stayed until we loaded up the snowmobiles on the trailer and packed our gear, dogs and groceries in the truck. We then uprooted her again and set off for the cottage.
It was quite the comedic process, watching us haul our gear and pets into the cottage each weekend. First, we put her in a small "kennel cab" wrapped in a warm blanket and placed her and one of the dogs (in a cab of his own) on a "trailboggan" along with boxes of groceries and whatever else we needed. We covered the whole thing with a special tarp, loaded the other dogs on our laps and drove the five kilometres into the cottage along a trail. That first trek possibly scarred her for life I am sure but as a result of that first adventure, travelling is something she just takes for granted. At least she doesn't have to go blindly over moguls in the cold with a dog vibrating beside her. Macs, her travelling companion died 3 days before my Dad in May of 2001. He was a small, mentally and physically challenged Scottie and couldn't walk well so the kennel cab was the only way to transport him.
Whenever I am working at my computer she often cuddles up on my lap but if I am up and down attending other things she gets "pissed off" at me and will sit on my keyboard to wait. She knows she is not supposed to do it, but she does anyway. When I had a desktop computer, she would sit up on top of the monitor (it was huge back then, not a flat screen like today's models) and if I ignored her for too long she would turn around with her back to me and swing her tail back and forth across the screen until I invited her to sit on my lap. She is such a loving, little "mush ball" that I forgive her right away and her companionship is extremely treasured. While I am away in Ontario she will be here to keep Rick company but I know she will miss me and I, her... but at least my keyboard will have a break!