I met Sammie a month ago when I moved in with an older woman from a church. She lived alone with two cats. I don’t like cats, but I needed somewhere to stay. Since I was a child, cats have scared me. I used to think they were the spawn of Satan, little deviant creatures who would scratch your eyes out without warning. To be honest, I didn’t like kittens either.
I am dog lover – a German Shepard lover. Dogs are friendlier than cats, dogs are loyal and they love to cuddle. Cats are opposite; cats are rude. Form what I have heard about cats is cats are narcissist spoiled monsters. When I use to stay at my grandmother’s house as a child, stray cats would wait outside the front door begging for Sunday leftovers.
One by one they would rush to bits of food on the ground. They never said thank you, instead, they secured the food tightly with their jaws and ran in the woods. Where are they running to, I would ask myself.
Sometimes the strays would hiss at each other and scratch, scrapping over the last bits of bones. The cats lived underneath the porch or underneath car tires, hiding from sunlight then waiting to come out at night, to hunt or to thief. Cats are vampires. My grandmother would never let them inside. She was a dog lover like me and I didn’t trust them. Overtime I began to dislike cats. I felt that they were sneaky and up to no good kind.
I had a couple of encounters with house cats; they were awkward and extremely unpleasant. Their eyes were vicious- and their claws knife sharp. I never wanted to be around another tom again. Before I moved in with Jan, I never touched a cat voluntarily.
But there was something about Sammie, a short hair domestic feline. His eyes are so big and bright- he stared at me like a child stares at Spiderman.
When I first met him, like me he was defensive. He watched me curiously through a floor window, while I unloaded my suitcase form the back of my Jetta. His eyes followed me up the sidewalk passed the mailbox as I headed to the front door. When I caught him looking at me he vanished behind the mangled curtains that hung in front. Jan held the door open for me and there Sammie was upright in front of me burning a hole in my chest.
His pupils slanted and his body alert, he hunched over and placed his chin on his paw while the back of his legs rose up. His tail thumped the ground. The other cat didn’t care. She took one look at me then walked way un-bothered. But Sammie didn't take his eyes off me. My hands were gripped tightly on my luggage. I stared at him back copying his strategy hoping he would back up. I presented myself as Alpha he smirked.
He was rather cute coated in mackerel fur. Jan laughed telling me he was having fun, some fun I thought. Sammie rolled his eyes as if he was saying I "don’t have time for this" and strolled in the kitchen his tail behind him swaying back and forth. He stopped and rubbed his face against the corners of the wall stretching his hind legs he yawned.
Sammie is unbelievably gorgeous. His black eyes are surrounded by a pool of neon. His paws are cream so is his belly and chin that resembles a human goat tee. He is beautifully striped with browns, grays, and blacks, a he was gorgeous. The first week in the house, Sammie watched me from a far. I caught him often staring at me, he would either act like he wasn’t or sometimes he stared back. I
dared not to look at him again, I wasn’t sure if he waiting to pounce. The tension went on for a few days. One night after dinner, I was in the hallway admiring a painting, Sammie appeared glaring at me. I leaned on the wall so I could make room for him to pass. He walked slowly, passing the bookshelf hugging the wall tiptoeing next to me, he slid his body over the area where my foot meets my ankle. I nearly died.
His fur brushed against my skin softly like paint on a canvas. A sound from his lower back made its way from his backbone to the roof of his mouth. He purred… His lower back perked in the air as the vibration rolled through his body like a wave. I was shook. I jerked, Sammie ran from me and I darted to my bedroom locking myself in, my heart pacing.
For the next week, I avoided Sammie as he watched me making myself comfortable in his home. I took his love seat, made it mine while he took up the kitchen. Jan was patient she kept Sammie out of my room and bathroom. She made no moves to acquaint us. She eased the tension between Sammie and I by keeping us separate.
In hindsight, Sammie was scared or more scared than I was. I had rejected him and my fear had the poor cat anxious. In the back of my mind, Sammie was the prowler and I was a bunny rabbit, paranoid and small; he watched me as I ate or studied at the kitchen table. In the mornings, Sammie waited outside my door until I woke up.
I can’t remember when, but one day, Sammie was lying on his side in the middle of the hallway blocking my path. His pupils were dilated. As I came closer his chin lifted up, his eyes followed my every move. I wanted to walk over him, but something in me decided to touch him. I went for his belly like a dog.
I didn’t know how to pet a cat. Surprisingly, Sammie rolled over stretched out showing me his claws. I continued to pet him he rolled back over and licked his lips in pleasure. I immediately pulled my hand back. I expected him to jump back or get up. Sammie responded burrowing his face deep in my arm.
I took my finger and rubbed it under his chin like Jan did sometimes. Sammie’s eyes closed; he extended his chest out allowing me to continue. His tail thumped the ground and curled around his back leg. His face scrunched up and his whiskers widen. Next thing I knew he was looking up at me with big eyes as if he was a kitten.
My heart warmed and my anxiety faded. In a blink of an eye, he pushed me aside then went about his business. That was the first time I bonded with any animal, Sammie became my cat. After that day Sammie and I became best friends. He’s the only cat I ever loved.
