![\"\"](\"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2009\/01\/3232919828_c763a11ec3_c.jpg\")
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"I got Sammy from the pound in Chicago in 1992 and he died in 2003. We were BUDS, man. I still miss him. We moved all over the place together. He lived in three apartments with me in Chicago, and then when I picked up and moved to New York, he traveled – via car – with me (an experience in and of itself, we stayed in a motel together somewhere in the wilds of Pennsylvania) – and then lived in about 5 or 6 apartments with me in New York and Hoboken.<\/p>\n
He was truly unique – almost like a mentally disturbed DOG rather than a cat. He had a worried look in his eyes at all times, bless his heart. At any moment, I was about to disappear. He would follow me around. I got to know him and his personality intimately. I could predict his moves.<\/p>\n
Sammy adored draping himself around my neck as though he was a fur stole … and would stay up there<\/i> as I did chores. I would vacuum my living room, with Sammy draped around my neck.<\/p>\n
Sammy never got into playing. I think it meant too much separation from me. I would toss a bizzy ball off into the distance and he would stare up at me worried, like, “Do you want me to go that far away from you?? Just to retrieve a bizzy ball? Are you out of your mind?? I want to stay RIGHT HERE draped around your neck, thankyouverymuch.”<\/p>\n
Sammy would sleep on my head. He could never ever get close enough. I would wake up in the dark of night and Sammy would be staring straight at me, eyes glimmering through the black. He only slept when he knew I was WATCHING. Because that made him feel safe. I have no idea. All I know is, whenever I opened my eyes from sleep, Sammy was right there, staring at me. I wished he could have learned to chillax but by the time I got him it was too late. Best I could do would be to give him as much love as possible so that maybe – maybe – he would learn to trust again.<\/p>\n
Sammy was not a lick-er, as Hope is, Hope loves to groom me. Sammy might have licked my hand once or twice – but that was only out of a sense of obligation and vague worry. He felt he had<\/i> to, so that I wouldn’t disappear into the swirling eternal ether forever … not because he wanted<\/i> to.<\/p>\n
Sammy would howl with despair when I would leave the apartment. I would walk down the stairs to leave, and hear him yowling as I left. It was awful.<\/p>\n
In my last apartment in Chicago, on Wayne Street, Sammy figured out a way to squeeze out of one of the windows – the screen was loose. So I would leave for work or rehearsal and Sammy would be sitting in the window, yowling at me, and I’d come home, hours later, and he would come bounding to greet me across the yards of the neighbors. He had lived the life of a free and wild animal for the whole day and now, purring so loudly it was almost embarrassing, he was ready to come inside and sit on my head.<\/p>\n
I used to trip over Sammy all the time, because he would place himself right under my feet<\/i>. He’d squeal and I’d be like, “Dude, that’s what happens when you place yourself directly under my torso. Will you never learn??”<\/p>\n
Sammy will always have the softest of spots in my heart, because of who he was, and how much time we had together. I often refer to him as the “best cat in the world”. I love Hope, but I still feel that way about Sammy. There are certain animals you just click<\/i> with … and Sammy was one-of-a-kind. (I love you, Hope!)<\/p>\n
Here is a photo of Sammy sitting on the mattress and it is hysterical to me, because that was in Chicago, and I was packing up my room to move to New York. I had dismantled the bed and Sammy – who, naturally, hovered amongst the whole proceedings, getting in the way – it all made him SO NERVOUS – had to then perch on top of the mattress, staring around him. Let me anthropomorphize, just because it pisses some people off and I adore pissing those off who get angry about stupid things. It seems like he is thinking, “I have no idea what is going on here, and why this thing is out in the hall, and I am afraid that it all might mean change for ME, so as long as I sit DIRECTLY ON THIS THING, my entire world will not collapse.” He looks vaguely anxious to me, and it’s still just so cute to me. His eyes are HUGE, like, “Now … what??? WHAT is happening here???”<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I got Sammy from the pound in Chicago in 1992 and he died in 2003. We were BUDS, man. I still miss him. We moved all over the place together. He lived in three apartments with me in Chicago, and … Continue reading