When we decided to go on the animal adopting binge I had a feeling that two would be good. I am not really a cat person. I searched high and low for the perfect kitty for my wife. I knew she wanted a wife, and while I probably would have preferred a dog, I knew that would go nowhere. Dogs are a lot more work than cats anyhow, so it worked out well.
I had gone to a number of places and looked at more than a few posts to inquire about adopting a cat, and let me tell you that some of the people I ran into were a bit on the whacko side. Hey, that’s okay, I was actually amused by their antics, but when one wanted to have a cat hypnotist come to my house with the potential adoptee, I said the hell with this and went back to getting two cats, breed didn’t matter, for my wife. She really wanted a Maine Coon, and that meant as much to me as if she had said she wanted a Serengali Wazzu Catch me if you Can Cat. A cat was a cat, nothing more nothing less. However, she would also settle for a Norweigian Forest Cat, which Peter and Frankie were. I went to Bide-A-Wee paid my money, and got my cat – no cat hypnotist involved. However, I had made a few calls and sure enough one of them came through.
I had seen this add about “Sylvester” which ironically was Frankies old name. He was named Sammy on the car ride home. Now this was a BIG cat. I man Peter was big, but this guy was just huge, and I had to have him. See, if I couldn’t have a dog, I’d have to have a big cat. So Sammy was added to the Pack – and he was perfect, because the idea of a Cat Pack came about while we were watching a movie, which meant that it would be more than two cats. Now, please don’t call me a racist because we got a “black cat” to be our Sammy Davis Jr. Sammy was in trouble in his home. He was with a cat afficianado and was daily having the cat crap knocked out of him by the other cats. Even though he was big, they ganged up on him. He had been in a feral community for the first year of his life, and was more than a little bit neurotic, even by cat standards for the experience. I saw him and loved him. He was huge, and was pretty playful. Sammy is just a cool cat. He LOVES to play, he also LOVES to eat. When he sees meat he snarls and when you feed him some you can just hear the wild animal that lies under the surface as he lets out a little cat snarl and hiss as he bites. He also HATES to be held or kissed, which means I have to every once in awhile, preferably when he is sleeping, pick him up and give him bunches of kisses. I can just see the disdain on his face as he must be saying “Fag, Fag, Fag” he must be Anne Coulter like, over an over again.
He has the worst social skills of all the cat pack, and has been beaten up, even though he’s the biggest more than once. He, Peter and Frankie came to use declawed, and so the other two, Angie and Dean have a not so insignificant advantage when the fur flies, and when you have five cats, the fur flies often.
For awhile we had two lovebirds along with the five cats and our faithful Rotty, Liesel. Sammy was the hunter of the lovebirds. He would wait outside their cage, and literally drool. God, it was so great to see him trying to open the cage, and every once in awhile while the cage was being cleaned, a lovebird would escape and then the fun would really begin.
Once he got one of them. The bird had skipped one of the 12 steps in bird cage transfers and Sammy was ready.
Eyes wide, a look of joy and rapture on his face, and a very terrified bird in his mouth, he took off for my office with his prey.
Me screaming, Liesel frantic, Dean and Angie close on his heels, I managed to rescue Sid before he could get hurt. Thankfully he didn’t break skin on him. He was, I believe, trying to find a quiet place to eat him in private. It was probably the best 20 second of Sammy’s often neurotic life. Of all the cats, Sammy liks the dog Liesel the most. They are buds.
I present Sammy Davis Jr. for your viewing pleasure.
As you can see, he LOVES to play.