R.I.P. Samson (1995-2012)

My mom called recently with some sad news.  My kitty, Samson, past away in his sleep.  I always call him "my kitty" though, the truth is, he hasn't actually lived with me since I moved away for college.  He was 17 years young and outlived the average lifespan of an indoor/outdoor male cat.  Last Thursday, after breakfast and a little play time, he snuggled up for a nap and never woke up.

We first got Samson when I was 13 years old.  My mom's friend found him in her backyard a few days before Thanksgiving - cold, wet, and crying for his mommy who was nowhere to be found.  When we went to visit her on Thanksgiving, we decided to take him home and nurse him back to health.  I tucked him in my sweater to keep him out of the rain and off we went.  He was very weak and small - too small to be away from his mommy - so we wanted to give him a name that symbolized strength.  My mom suggested Hercules but being that he had such long silky fur, I thought Samson was more appropriate.  We bathed him, fed him milk until he could eat proper kitten food, snuggled him and loved him, and before we knew it, he was a healthy, active, full-grown boy weighing almost 20 pounds!

And he was quite the smarty-pants, too.  He figured out how to turn on the bathroom faucet whenever he wanted a fresh drink of water.  And how to turn it off when he was done.  He learned how to open doors and cabinets to find hidden treats he wasn't supposed to have.  He was a funny eater who would eyeball my french fries and go for those over chicken any day.  He loved going for car rides and sitting on top of our fish tank to dangle just one little paw into the water.  But never once did he try to catch or hurt the fish.  That's not to say he wasn't a hunter.  He definitely was!  Frogs, squirrels, birds ... you name it, he caught it.  And left it in almost-perfect condition outside my bedroom window as a little "gift."

Check out the knob.  He figured out how to turn it on and off!

I traveled a lot in high school for speech tournaments and he quickly learned that a suitcase meant I was going away.  All of my suitcases had little scratch marks along the zippers.  He didn't like it when I left him behind.  One day when I was packing up to leave for college, I walked into my room to find him in my suitcase with some of his toys.  As if he thought he could finally go with me.  I know he had a happy (and spoiled) life with my mom but I always felt a little bit guilty for leaving him behind.  I'll miss him dearly but knowing that he was happy and healthy (and had a full appetite!) right till the end is a bit of comfort.

Hanging out in the fish tank before we added fish.

RIP Samson.  There will never be another kitty quite like you.