The Journey of Samwise: A Return To The Shire

As some of you may know, a stray cat decided to claim our house as his home during the winter months. A battered orange Tom, and a manx no less - who was obviously accustomed to battling it out for territory in the wilds of the Cashmere Valley orchards.

We named him Smeagol, for his habit of meowling and whining as he poked his head out from under the porch. But, my 7 year old niece... upon seeing The Return of The King.... decided that Smeagol was evil, and we absolutely HAD to rename our cat.

Hence, Samwise was bestowed as his new moniker.

Now, Samwise had a tendency to roam his newfound Shire. It wasn't unusual for him to go up missing for two or three days at a time. At night, I'd hear the coyotes yodling out in the orchard...and I would wonder if perhaps Samwise had strayed a little too far towards Mordor. But, eventually I'd hear him meowling at the front door, wanting his tin of tuna.

A survivor, that one.

Although... one morning when he returned, I went outside to find that something had gotten hold of him. His back leg had fur missing on a good portion of it, and puncture wounds where teeth had clamped. There was a small scratch on his nose...and he was busily licking and tending to his wounds. We watched him for awhile, and he wasn't limping or in immediate pain... so we decided to keep an eye on it, figuring that sometimes it's best just to let the animal take care of it.

That went well for a few days. The wound was staying clean, and he was busy inspecting the newly uncovered lawn and garden as the snow melted back.

Thursday morning of this week came, and I scritched his head on my way out the door for work. My mother was there, and we both noticed that the wound had swollen. Time to go to the vet.

So I went to work, not realizing that my mother had decided she would take him that day.

When I came home that night, I noticed Samwise wasn't milling around on the porch as he is wont to do. When I went inside, mom was sitting on the couch....

"Well, I don't know if we are going to see Samwise again or not...."

What???

And here is where Samwise's journey begins.

----

I was mindin' me own business in the garden there, noticin' that the ground was gettin' ripe fer mushrooms....when suddenly I found meself scooped up like I was nuthin' but a bag o' taters! I looked, and standin' there with me in her clutches was Grandma-ki... with the White Hand of Mary Kay smack dab on her face.

She threw me over her shoulder, Mr. Frodo - she did. She took her stride to that monstrous big dragon o' hers.... and I was soon flyin' down the road, not knowing it for nuthin'. And then I came to me senses....

.... we were headin' straight fer Mordor, we were.

I saw it plain as day, the Eye of Veterinarian. Oh it was an evil business, Mr. Frodo... the smell hit me like the stinkiest bog you ever did step in. When she brought her dragon to a stop, she hoisted me out and held me in a death grip, I swear it.

The closer we got to that evil door, the more I thought of the Shire, and how I might never see it again. And then, I heard her murmur low like. She said she was fixin' on fixin' me! At first I thought maybe just my leg, but then she said somethin' that made the hair on my back stand right up. She was talkin' about my Precious. My PRECIOUS!!! Noooo!! Don't let him turn me into anything unnatural!!!!!!!!!!

Hang that. I wasn't stickin' around for it Mr. Frodo. There was just no reason to it, as far as I could see. And I had to do somethin' quick, cause the Eye of Veterinarian was fixed on me solid like, and there wasn't no turnin' back once she got me through that door. So I had to think quick like... and the first thing to do was just to bite her hard and scratch for all I's worth Mr. Frodo. And so I did, I swear it.

The Gramma-ki dropped me then, and there was nuthin' for it. I went for the bushes straight away, and kept low so there was no seein' me. I was keepin' my Precious, and there was no two ways about it.
------------------------------------------------

So... there she was. Scratched, bit and bleeding. The Vet came out of his office when he heard the commotion, and was stunned to see mom with a real gusher coming out of the top of her hand. Apparently Samwise landed a perfect bite to a blood vessel.

So, wrapping mom's hand up as good as he could with the bright orange animal tape... the Vet urged her to head to the Emergency Room at the local hospital. Apparently cat bites are some of the worst in the world if they get directly into a vessel.

So she went, and the doctor got a good chuckle as he unwrapped the Vet's handiwork... but he did prescribe her five days of potent antibiotics. She then promptly went to the store and blew money on a pair of shoes and two shirts because, in her words...."I went to do the damned cat a favor, and to get him fixed so he wouldn't keep going out and getting in fights... and then I lost the cat, blew fifty bucks on antibiotics...and I was pouting!!!!"

At this point we were laughing hysterically... as is the habit of our family. Situations like this are so comical we can't help but laugh while feeling sad that Samwise was now a couple of miles away downtown... with train tracks, a highway, and country suburban sprawl between him and home.

So, that night I peeked out the door to his house. The heat lamp we had fixed up for him to keep him warm on the cold winter nights was dark. No orange kitty on his back baking under the red light like a little bean burrito at a mini-mart. As much of a chuckle as the situation was... I felt my heart sink. Poor Sam. Even though the Vet told us not to be surprised if he found his way home, I couldn't imagine him surviving it out of town, past the cars, across the numerous yards and fields where dogs roamed freely.

"Don't worry.... I bet you he'll come back" hubby said. But I just shook my head.

At best, I hoped maybe he'd find a new home with kind owners.

At worst.....

....

So the next day I tried not to look over at his house as I left for work. His food dish was still on the porch, but there was no need to fill it with tuna. Mom was doing good, the bite wasn't even sore - so that was a worry off my mind. I could tell she felt bad though. I tried to make her laugh by saying, "See? We should have kept his name Smeagol...cause then when he bit you, he would have shouted 'Nassssty Grammatsis!!!!' "

We both giggled, but still. Our Sam, our little stray, was gone.

So this morning, hubby and I rose early at 6:30, to get a real jump start on the day. We were hungry for omellettes and good coffee, and knew our dog would be geared for a walk. So out the door we went, and as hubby went to start the Jeep, I walked Griffin over past the porch swing to send him off into the orchard to do his business.

I stood waiting for him, when I heard a meowl.

I glanced around, telling myself it was the wind.

"Meooowl!"

I gulped. "I hear a cat. I hear a cat!!!" I almost gave myself whiplash as I looked all around, recognizing that plaintive little call. Hubby rushed over from the car, looking up in the tree at the same time I looked down at my feet....

...and there, slinking out from beneath the porch swing, was our Brave Samwise. Meooowwwwwwwwwwwwwl!!!!!!!

"Oh...holy cow!!!!!!! He came back!!! Sam's back!!!!!!!"

I scooped his little body up and he was an instant bagpipe of purring. I was absolutely dumbfounded. He had avoided the river, crossed the train tracks, made it across the highway and over two miles of the township.

I guess it really is true what they say. You can't lose a cat!

He is currently curled up on the porch in the sunlight, completely tuckered out from his long journey. And I'm sure in his mind he is thinking.... Ahhhh, Mr. Frodo. The Shire. The taste of Purina, the smell of my blanket. There's some good in this world, Mr. Frodo. And it's worth fighting for.

~*~

Ain't it the truth. :) When turning on the news tells of things that even nightmares can't imagine... I figured my little story of 'what was lost, now is found' might bring a smile or two to my few readers. I shamelessly (and awfully!) wove in a few direct quotes from Tolkien's grand book... and for those of you who aren't familiar with it, this story might not read the same. But I'm sure one thing is obvious; my joy! I've got my Samwise back. Kitties do have nine lives.