Sammie came into my life quite unexpectedly on a blustery Sunday in September 2007, her arrival into our family was the result of something of a tragedy. Our friend Tammy had had a massive stroke and was in critical condition, no one knew if she would make it. As it turned out, she did, but it was a long uphill recovery. Jason, Courtney, and I asked if there was anything we could do - we soon received word that her cat - Samantha -- Sammie - needed a home, and given Tammy's condition, likely a permanent one. Tammy's brother currently had the cat and was not willing or able to keep her - if no one volunteered, the cat was going to be put down.

The decision was made without much discussion or hesitation - Jason and Courtney were going to take her. Courtney and I went and picked her up, bringing her back to the townhome we all shared. As soon as we got her into the car it became obvious - this cat was feisty and NOT happy that she was being taken places unknown with unfamiliar people - she was going to be going with much crying, hissing, and growling. We got her settled in Jason and Courtney's room and that, I thought, would be that. But as it turned out, Sammie had other plans.

Sammie didn't take to her new living arrangement as gracefully as she might have. In fact, she fairly terrorized Jason and Courtney - there was a lot of hissing and growling when anyone tried to pay attention to her or even get near her. And she was certain that SHE was in charge - if she was on a piece of furniture, it was hers until she decided otherwise. In an example I would tell with much relish for years after, she began a morning ritual with Jason - one that I find endlessly amusing, but that he did not much appreciate. Every morning when he was trying to get ready for work, she would sit atop the toilet seat in his bathroom and hiss, growl, snarl, and spit at him whenever he got near her.

It was another Sunday not too long after when I got a call while I was out watching football - Sammie just was not warming up to Courtney and Jason, it was clear that the situation was not working out. They wanted to know if I was willing to take her. Always a sucker for an animal with no other options, I told her I would be happy to and they moved Sammie and all of her things into my room.

When I got home, Sammie was sitting at the foot of my bed glowering at me. I gave her fresh food and water and cleaned out her litter box. Then I approached with a hand extended, palm up. She sniffed at me somewhat distainfully, then hissed and let out a long, low growl. Fine. If that was how she wanted to play it, I was willing to wait her out. We went the next several days in a tenuous peace - I gave her food and water and kept her box clean, occasionally tried to pet her (always met with a hiss) and otherwise kept my distance.

After about a week, she stopped hissing whenever I got near her. About a week after that, she actually let me pet her - although for only a few seconds before running off. Success! We were making progress. As time passed, when she realized that I wasn't going anywhere and neither was she, she started warming up to me more and more. She began sleeping at the foot of my bed, coming up to me and letting me pet her, letting me pick her up without incident and occasionally crawling right up into my lap. I finally realized she had completely let me in when I got sick about 6 weeks after she moved in. As I was laying in bed, feeling supremely unwell, she jumped up in bed and cautiously made her way over to my side. I patted her lightly on the head for a second and then suddenly, after a quick sniff, she jumped right up onto my chest, licked my cheek, laid down, and promptly began purring and kneading my shoulder with her paws. She didn't leave my side the entire time I was sick, and from that moment, I knew that we were bonded for life.

After that, all of her barriers were gone. She slept on my pillow next to me, face nuzzled into my hair, purring as contentedly as could be. She greeted me with the greatest of joy when I got home from work, meowing excitedly at my return. She wanted to eat from my plates, drink from my glasses, sometimes even would jump into the shower with me. She would curl up and watch tv with me, lie in my lap while I read or used the computer.

When we moved into my apartment - and later my townhome - the moves were stress filled and anxiety ridden for her. The result, I think, of being a cat who had been given away one too many times. But once we were settled, she was happy as could be with the new living arrangements because it meant she could follow me from room to room - watch tv with me in the living room, nap on the dining room chairs, and lay in the kitchen with me while I cooked. Even when she had the run of the whole house, she always slept with me, and more often that not, I would wake up to Sammie sitting on my chest purring, batting at my nose with a paw and giving me a friendly "mom, time to get up and feed me" meow.

The last several weeks Sammie hadn't been feeling well, with a dimished appetite and sometimes having difficulty breathing. They were filled with a flurry of vet visits, tests, medications, theories on differing diagnoses, steroid shots, and oxygen treatments. At first the vet was certain it was just allergies, then maybe asthma - they couldn't find anything definitive. Even when she seemed like she was feeling ok, I instictively knew that my time with her was growing short and I relished every moment together. In the last few weeks, I gave her all of her favorite foods and treats, cuddled and played with her, held her close, petted her, and whispered to her how much I loved her. On our last night together we watched tv from bed, her curled up next to me with a paw resting on my arm, purring away. As I fell asleep, I stroked her head, rubbed her ears, and told her how much I loved her. When I woke up and came downstairs in the morning, she was laying on her blanket and she was gone - peacefully in her sleep, it appeared, and for that I am grateful.

Sammie was my constant companion, my little best friend - the one who cuddled up with me in the blankets on movie night; the one who was ecstatic to see me every day when I got home; the one who heard every secret, problem, and worry; the one who never left my side when I wasn't feeling well - be it from heartbreak, illness, or injury; the one who comfoted me when I cried and who loved me fiercely, unconditionally and without judgment. She brought endless joy to my life and the house feels a little hollow and empty without her. Although I always told people that I had saved and adopted her, it turned out she was the one who endlessly saved me and I feel privileged that, in the end, it was she who decided to adopt me.