When you took your final labored breaths this morning, I'm sorry I mistook them for typical heaves.
You were laying on the hardwood floor, looking under the bed; I thought you were staring at another cat or a toy. Maybe you were looking for the safe spot you go during thunderstorms.
By the time Anne and I realized something was terribly wrong, we were too late to help. Your eyes were open, but you were gone.
Seven years earlier, when we met, you weren't like the other shelter cats. Curiously calm, you roamed the place freely as if you worked there. You didn't meow -- only chirped.
Your ivory fur was soft and clean, pink skin peeking out around your eyes, nose, and at the edges of your ears. A coffee-brown cloud lay like a saddle across your back. Another capped your small head like a toupee.
As I rubbed your strong back, the volunteers told me how they'd rescued you from a vicious dog attack. But instead of avoiding the shelter's dogs, you obsessively stood by the door to the Big Dog room, desperate to enter. Were you looking to make peace with your attackers -- or perhaps hoping to settle the score, a crude shank hidden in your thick winter coat?
When Anne and I decided to adopt you, we'd just moved in together. Our plain one-bedroom apartment was the only thing she and I shared. Anne had her Accord; I had my Sentra. She had her canvas and paint; I had my laptop and jokes. I inherited her four cats, and she accepted the weekly anarchic comings and goings of my kids. Legacies of our independent lives were all around us, but I wanted something -- a living thing -- that would begin knowing us as we were in that moment.
Within minutes of bringing you home, you found a safe hiding spot under a pile of Anne's laundry and stayed there for hours. At first, you were very docile. But within days, you staged a dedicated campaign of terror against Daniel, Anne's oldest and sickest cat.
You also attacked any human foot that dared invade your sovereign circle. Every night, I'd flick off the light switch on the bedroom wall -- engulfing the room in darkness -- and then pause, as if a castle's moat separated the bed from where I stood. Like a crocodile, you were hiding somewhere in the dark middle, waiting to snap. More than a few times, you got me.
Anne assured me all you needed was time.
When Daniel died peacefully -- or so we'd like to believe -- you finally settled down. Then, for reasons locked away in your feline brain, you devoted yourself completely to me. The other cats cling to Anne like she's made of minced meat, but you were determined to be my cat.
When I came home, you ran to greet me. You sat behind my head when I was on the couch, and pressed your warm stomach against my neck. Often you licked my face with your sandpapery tongue like you were trying to scrape away stress. You loved the company of men -- the bigger, the better -- whether it was my dad snoozing on the couch after Thanksgiving dinner or two guys coming over to install a new dishwasher.
I could easily imagine you as you might have been in a former, human life: a fearless boy. An athlete. A daredevil. Someone very different from me. This made our close attachment all the more peculiar. But cats are peculiar, often unpredictable animals -- perhaps the only creatures in the animal kingdom that can hold a grudge, and throw up with intention. When they look at you like you've done something wrong, chances are you have.
I'll miss the night time without you, Sam. I'll miss your body curled behind my knees, and weighing heavily on my chest. I'll miss waking up to you at the foot of my bed, knowing you were there all night, purposefully.
You had a duty in life to love. Somehow, Sam, you knew that.
I knew it too. It was always in your eyes, Sam. Even in your final look for that distant, safe spot.
A version of this essay appears in Joel Schwartzberg's new collection "Small Things Considered"
Our 2024 Coverage Needs You
It's Another Trump-Biden Showdown — And We Need Your Help
The Future Of Democracy Is At Stake
Our 2024 Coverage Needs You
Your Loyalty Means The World To Us
As Americans head to the polls in 2024, the very future of our country is at stake. At HuffPost, we believe that a free press is critical to creating well-informed voters. That's why our journalism is free for everyone, even though other newsrooms retreat behind expensive paywalls.
Our journalists will continue to cover the twists and turns during this historic presidential election. With your help, we'll bring you hard-hitting investigations, well-researched analysis and timely takes you can't find elsewhere. Reporting in this current political climate is a responsibility we do not take lightly, and we thank you for your support.
Contribute as little as $2 to keep our news free for all.
Can't afford to donate? Support HuffPost by creating a free account and log in while you read.
The 2024 election is heating up, and women's rights, health care, voting rights, and the very future of democracy are all at stake. Donald Trump will face Joe Biden in the most consequential vote of our time. And HuffPost will be there, covering every twist and turn. America's future hangs in the balance. Would you consider contributing to support our journalism and keep it free for all during this critical season?
HuffPost believes news should be accessible to everyone, regardless of their ability to pay for it. We rely on readers like you to help fund our work. Any contribution you can make — even as little as $2 — goes directly toward supporting the impactful journalism that we will continue to produce this year. Thank you for being part of our story.
Can't afford to donate? Support HuffPost by creating a free account and log in while you read.
It's official: Donald Trump will face Joe Biden this fall in the presidential election. As we face the most consequential presidential election of our time, HuffPost is committed to bringing you up-to-date, accurate news about the 2024 race. While other outlets have retreated behind paywalls, you can trust our news will stay free.
But we can't do it without your help. Reader funding is one of the key ways we support our newsroom. Would you consider making a donation to help fund our news during this critical time? Your contributions are vital to supporting a free press.
Contribute as little as $2 to keep our journalism free and accessible to all.
Can't afford to donate? Support HuffPost by creating a free account and log in while you read.
As Americans head to the polls in 2024, the very future of our country is at stake. At HuffPost, we believe that a free press is critical to creating well-informed voters. That's why our journalism is free for everyone, even though other newsrooms retreat behind expensive paywalls.
Our journalists will continue to cover the twists and turns during this historic presidential election. With your help, we'll bring you hard-hitting investigations, well-researched analysis and timely takes you can't find elsewhere. Reporting in this current political climate is a responsibility we do not take lightly, and we thank you for your support.
Contribute as little as $2 to keep our news free for all.
Can't afford to donate? Support HuffPost by creating a free account and log in while you read.
Dear HuffPost Reader
Thank you for your past contribution to HuffPost. We are sincerely grateful for readers like you who help us ensure that we can keep our journalism free for everyone.
The stakes are high this year, and our 2024 coverage could use continued support. Would you consider becoming a regular HuffPost contributor?
Dear HuffPost Reader
Thank you for your past contribution to HuffPost. We are sincerely grateful for readers like you who help us ensure that we can keep our journalism free for everyone.
The stakes are high this year, and our 2024 coverage could use continued support. If circumstances have changed since you last contributed, we hope you'll consider contributing to HuffPost once more.
Support HuffPostAlready contributed? Log in to hide these messages.