My mom is preparing to move soon, so I am having to go through my old room and gather things, as well as get rid of stuff that I either don't want or don't have room for. Sammy decided to make the trip with me. Or, I should say Samantha! My mom has three cats. Sammy is still terrified of cats. Like super terrified. He has his nickname Samantha for a reason! Just today at the dogpark he stuck up for himself to a great dane becasue the great dane wanted to drink out of the same water bowl at the same time. Yeah a great dane. Sammy had to stand on his hind legs just to sniff him! But cats, oh no, that is an evil all too powerful for him! Yet, he loves cats. Seriously can't get enough of them. If he could talk, it would just be, "MUST SEE CAT!" For him we call them kitty-cats though. Not just cats. He doesn't really respond much to cat, just kitty-cat. I can't remember what started it, I just know the reaction is much, much different. So yesterday afternoon I asked Sammy if he would like to help go to my old room and start sorting through things. This is my response:
You would think with a reaction like that, he does love the cats! But, quite the opposite. Sammy was cornered by the smallest of cats. She had his number, let me tell you! My old room was in the basement, and so Sammy ran up and down the stairs. Over and over. Fun for him for some reason. Until the cats blocked him off. Then he began to pace in the basement. Down came the Logan. Sammy would pace in what room he had left. I went upstairs to get a trash bag and I hear screams and wimpers! I ran down the stairs and they were in the laundry room. Sammy was still screaming and wimpering. I come around the corner and Logan had cornered Sammy between the dryer and furnace as Logan was slapping him in the face! After pulling Logan away, poor Sammy had this giant wet, yellow spot beneath him!! Literally, Logan had scared the "potty" out of him! Sammy, if he had a tail, it would have been between his legs, ears back and he just waddled right over to me. I bent down and he tried climbing up my legs. I picked him up, as I always do (he is quite the lover, very affectionate, especially when upset) and he was just like a little toddler. Sammy's legs were around my belly (as much as they can) and he laid against my chest with his head buried straight down, not even on my shoulder. I felt so bad for him! I carried him up the stairs and we sat on the couch enjoying some cable. Sammy wouldn't budge off my lap for quite some time. After he regained some confidence he went right back for the cats. BUT....if they came toward him, he came right back for his Momma! Samantha definately lives!