I tried, I really did.  But Princess Cassandra is not for me (see "A Tale of Two Kitties" for more about Cassandra).  After almost two weeks at the cat boarding kennel, she was still growling and hissing at any feline brave enough to approach. 

There’s not much question at this point that the beauteous PC is an only cat, and not destined for my motley group of four cats, four dogs and two humans.  So, having reluctantly eliminated one candidate for the open cat spot in my household, we headed back on Monday to the animal shelter to visit with Samantha again and decide if she would fit in.  She sure has a lot going for her.  She’s one of the most physically affectionate and playful cats I’ve ever encountered, with an endearing squeaky meow that she uses only when she wants attention.   

I got some more information about her, including that the woman who gave her and another cat up returned soon after to reclaim the other cat, having recently rented an apartment that only allowed one pet.  So sweet, eleven  y.o., plump Samantha was left behind again, and didn’t have much of a chance of being adopted real soon, especially with a shelter full of much younger felines.  When they asked, do you want to take her home, the answer was obvious. 

Today, just two days after we brought her home, Samantha is perched right behind my computer on a cushioned window ledge, which also happens to be one of the favorite hangouts of our cat Matilda, who is none too pleased at the situation.  Matilda and Samantha had a brief face-to face hissing contest while my back was turned yesterday, but otherwise Matilda has confined herself to sniffing around the room and occasionally sneaking a peek at Samantha. 

Cats are totally unpredictable and mysterious in their reactions to each other.  They range from affection to tolerance all the way to outright hostility.  At at this point I don’t know where on the spectrum Samantha will eventually fall as a member of the family.  

As a precaution and physical barrier, we taped up a cardboard “door” in the doorway that gives Samantha safety and privacy when she needs it and some ability to see what’s out there.  It’s high enough that the cats won’t jump over it.  Our dogs, who so far act mostly puzzled by the stranger in their midst who curiously resembles two of our other tortie cats, still get to come in and snooze all around us as we do our computer chores, while Samantha naps above them, safe from close and possibly hostile encounters.  She seems to take a lot in stride, including the dogs.  Since ours is at least the third new household of her life, maybe she’s just resigned to change. 

My only male cat Tao, who’s normally mellow and gets along with everybody, has had the most unexpected reaction.  He took one look at Samantha on Monday and acted as if he’d seen a ghost, scurrying upstairs.  He’s pretty much avoided her since.   And my long-hair cat Karma is, as usual, aloof and self-absorbed, too proud to act curious.  But I’m sure she’ll have some input eventually. 

I took Samantha on a tour of the house yesterday.  I get the impression that if I allowed it, she’d be walking all over the place.  She’s not at all timid, and in the manner of cats, she pokes her nose into everything.  She’s met our reclusive cat Circe, who, predictably, hissed at her.   But I have yet to introduce her to the upstairs bedroom that Matilda, Tao and Karma consider their home base.   That’s the final frontier. 

Will Samantha adapt to this strange new world, and vice versa?  Will she boldly go where few cats have gone before (at least not in a while)?  I certainly hope so.  This mission may take weeks, even months, and no doubt there’ll be some fur flying along the way.  But she’s a sweetheart of a cat and worth the effort.  I’d like to make our family the last and best one of her life.