So in early August, my wife went on a week-long trip to a postal conference to New Orleans, while there was still a New Orleans to have a postal conference in. One day before going on her trip, however, she spotted a kitten sitting next to a mailbox in the blistering heat, panting. Nobody in the nearby homes knew anything about him. She took him along for the rest of her mail route and brought him home, where he proceeded to drink water like a fish.

Sammy cat.
Sammy cat.

Sampson, as she named him, quickly detected the other sucker for cats in the household and latched on to me.

Sammy cat.
Sammy cat.
Sammy cat.

This isn’t to say that I didn’t latch on to him too, however. I started calling him “Sammy Cat.”

Sammy cat.
Sammy cat.
Sammy cat.
Sammy cat.
Sammy cat.

He had no idea what cat food was, or that one should eat it rather than walking through it.

Sammy cat.
Sammy cat.
Sammy cat.

Many belly-rub attacks ensued.

Sammy cat.
Sammy cat.
Sammy cat.
Sammy cat.
Sammy cat.
Sammy cat.

He did finally figure the food thing out though.

Sammy cat.

While my wife was away on her trip, Sammy Cat tried to help out with household chores.

Sammy cat.
Sammy cat.
Sammy cat.
Sammy cat.
Sammy cat.
Sammy cat.
Sammy cat.
Sammy cat.

For which I repaid him with…you guessed it…belly rub attacks.

Sammy cat.
Sammy cat.

We knew early on that my sister-in-law was interested in Sampson as a possible mouse-eatin’ Barn Kitty. So I started trying to reintroduce him to the outdoors.

Sammy cat.
Sammy cat.
Sammy cat.

He didn’t seem to understand the significance of the dog food or the dog house at first.

Sammy cat.
Sammy cat.

He much preferred staying in our utility room and snoozing, as these Mr. Sleepyhead photos prove.

Sammy cat.
Sammy cat.

He also liked climbing to the top of this rolled-up carpet remnant so he could greet us at eye-level.

Sammy cat.
Sammy cat.
Sammy cat.

Our visits to the great outdoors – well, not really, but the back deck – continued.

Sammy cat.
Sammy cat.
Sammy cat.
Sammy cat.

Until…

Sammy cat.
Sammy cat.

“Oh, wait. So you’re a dog. And you’re about 5,000 times bigger than me. Only one thing for it.”

Sammy cat.

FREAK THE HELL OUT!!!

Sammy cat.
Sammy cat.
Sammy cat.
Sammy cat.

So I climbed a tree – something I don’t exactly have the physique for – to try to rescue Sammy Cat.

Sammy cat.
Sammy cat.

Only one little problem…the moment sunlight hit the little fart, he happy curled up and went to sleep in the tree. With me clinging to it for dear life.

Sammy cat.
Sammy cat.

After a nap Sampson was finally ready to be ‘rescued.’

Sammy cat.

After that, he was ready to snooze inside for a change.

Sammy cat.
Sammy cat.
Sammy cat.

You may be wondering how Othello and Chloe felt about all this. They seemed to be fine with it – until finally, after we’d all had a week and a half to grow very attached to Sammy Cat, his “new mommy” came to pick him up. Othello and Chloe promptly went looking for him.

Sammy cat.
Sammy cat.

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About the Author

Earl Green ()

I'm the creator, editor-in-chief and head writer of theLogBook.com.

Website: http://www.theLogBook.com

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