Those Endearing Animals

Samantha Pussycat: A True Story

by Mish (Mishka119)

One day when I went to the vet, routine visit for one of the dogs, he seemed so down. Since we are friends, I asked him why he was so blue. He put his arm around me and led me into the "hospital proper".

In one of the hospital cages was a small box on a heating pad. Lots of tubes lead into the shoebox, but it was too high for me and I couldn't see. The Vet reached up and gently brought the box down for me to see inside it.

Inside was a tiny morsel of white fur.. perhaps 2 ounces in weight, covered with dampened cotton. I lifted the cotton batting and looked at the "baby". It was the tiniest kitten I had ever seen.

Her eyes were open and blue so she was at least two weeks old. Every bone showed through her paper-thin skin. She was in the last stage of starvation and not responding. She had been abandoned with her littermates and was the sole survivor.

My vet just looked at me, with a question in his eyes..... she could not be saved in a hospital, but needed 24 hr care and even then her life was "iffy".

I gently touched her and put her in my hand. There was no response from her at all. The collie I had brought in, Brandy, began to whine and whimper, and I lowered my hand with the kitten in it.

Brandy began to lick the babe and the kitten whimpered ever so softly. Brandy was a huge black -coated collie, a male. A retired show dog and number one defender of the house and all who lived there, Brandy was almost totally blind as well!

I took the starving infant home with me....knowing she would die, but at least not be alone. And so it began. A few drops of formula by eye dropper every 30 minutes. I often carried her, wrapped in a diaper, inside my pocket. There she would be easy to stroke and stimulate, and would be warm and feel movement at the same time.

Brandy followed me everywhere often nuzzling the pocket in which she slept. When she was in my lap for a feeding, Brandy would stand there watching and then wash her from tiny head to toe.

A week went by and she lived...and she began to gain and grow.

One day, to my surprise, after a feeding, Brandy picked her up in his huge jaws, took her to the rug and curled up with "Sammy" under his chin, tucked into his coat for warmth.

And so it was that Sammy was being reared by a male collie.... a blind one at that. Her need to nurse was great and she often sucked on any part of him that she could reach, raising painful blisters on his skin. He adored her and allowed her anything.

She was able to nurse from a bottle later as she became stronger. Hard to say what Sammy thought He was, but he was her world and she did whatever babies do! Swatted him, nibbled on him, pulled on his coat.. name it! She could do no wrong.

She developed some color on her head and tail and was a Calico Cat .... although mostly pure white. At full growth she only weighed three pounds, a tiny but full grown cat who though she was a dog!

Sammy responded to her name as any dog would! She came when called, ran to the door with the dogs when someone came in. She sat and begged for food as they did, when I was preparing meals in the kitchen. Her chosen "Person" was my son, her God was Brandy!

Inside or outside this big black dog and tiny white cat were always together.

She got along well with all the dogs, and played with the newest puppies..... watching that was a riot! She was the one and only animal EVER to be allowed on my husband's bed, his chair or HIS LAP!! How she accomplished that will remain a secret forever!

She was high-spirited, playful and very loving. An especially endearing little bit of white. She did all and saw all and lived life to the fullest. She loved the children and never had to be declawed, although her nails were kept trimmed. She was wonderful!

She and Brandy lived long and well. Was she different because of him? Perhaps. I don't question it. Her life was a gift....a miracle. But for him she would certainly have died. His love for her was what made her live. After Brandy's death, at the age of 12 1/2 years, Samantha changed a bit. Some of the impishness and 'gamin' seemed to have left her. She was a tad quieter.

Sigh, I guess she grew up. She missed him dearly.... that is fact. In time, it was not un-usual to see Sammy in a sheltie's litter box, 'mothering' the newborn pups.

It seems that the cycle of love carried on.... and it was beautiful to behold.

 

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