Sammy’s proclivity towards violence was apparent from the start. His play-fights with Prefix degraded into genuine altercations. This dwindled as their games got longer, until one day they played a game which left them both drained, sprawled, and panting.
That was a big milestone which took them about 4 months to reach, after Sammy moved in. This was [what I like to call] Sammy’s “integration“ period.
Next came the “bad boy“ phase, when he openly considered himself a delinquent and behaved as he saw fit. He was learning how to draw and respect new boundary lines. During this process, we learned from D about his longstanding nickname: “drama queen Sam“. He had a brassy attitude and a debilitating fear of heights.
Sammy outgrew his renegade ways as his temper evened out. This new phase (the longest of all the phases) turned Sammy’s tumultuous tummy to a state beyond upset. We were on a dogged mission for the food that best suited him before that belly became full-on depressed. (We found a few brands that work well with him, but still the cause of his digestive disturbance remained unknown, that is until we began to figure out the mystery about his tail: please subscribe and stay tuned for upcoming post, A Cat’s Tail Reveals Ancient Mysteries.)
At this stage, pandemic related travel bans were being lifted. Our parents were coming over and this was a long-anticipated visit. It would be the first time Sammy would meet his self-appointed grandparents. This phase is marked by one real disagreement between him and Prefix. This is the story about that fight, seeded by grandma’ and grandpa’s month-long visit.
The feud was centered on an old couch located in my office since the earlier days following Prefix’s adoption. I worked at my desk every night, and Pre’ would accompany me, sleeping on the couch until we both got up for breakfast. This early pattern may have been what trained him into guarding me at all hours. His instincts tell him I need a sitter. Animals have a sense of duty that is often underappreciated.
When our folks were finally with us, the couch ended up in a guestroom. Sammy’s grandma woke up before dawn just like him, and she sat on that sofa to start her day. Sammy routinely infiltrated and crept through the semi-darkness (without waking up a his grandpa’) to join her on that couch. Together they played his favorite games with all the toys he wanted, until daylight fully overtook the room.
The month flew by in a blink, and as always, I tried negotiating with them to stay another. The serenity we enjoy together made me wonder if Sammy even remembered a time before meeting them.
It was less than a week since their departure. I was at my desk while Prefix sat on the couch, both facing the window. The silence was broken by a peculiar announcement.
“It could be one-sided. Try to watch closely…”, he urged.
I looked around and noticed Sammy sitting outside the door to the room — he usually comes inside announcing himself and seeking a million pets.
Picking him off the ground we brought him into the room and all took a seat on the floor. We were able to get to the root of the problem through a sequence of binary questions: Sammy was upset because Prefix was using the couch!
Bored by melodrama, Prefix yawned, slunk off the couch, and vanished.
“There, Sammy — you can use the couch now. Prefix is no longer on it!“
He didn’t budge. Slow cooking himself on the insides, he sat there silently seething. “Sammy, what do you want?”, I pleaded.
Normally, I was feeding them at 5am and let them go outside minutes before dawn. They preferred to leave through the back door and eventually one of them (or both) came home through the front.
The next 10 or so days however, would be far from normal. They left and returned through separate doors. They avoided each other throughout the house. The slightest bit of eye contact between them ran the risk of another flareup. Such vigilance is undeniably taxing on anyone, regardless of species.
Prefix — who had given all of his toys to his new little brother as soon as Sammy moved in — was now reclaiming other pieces of furniture around the house as his.
The rivalry over this couch was settled internally, without human interference. Resolving this problem was entirely up to them.
This is a story about how Sammy learned to respect his own emotions and someone else’s boundaries at the same time. It’s also a story about the meaning of ownership — a resounding theme throughout the Tailless Trails book series.
Please subscribe and follow us on Instagram, Meta, and X, learn more about the book series, and how it relates with this collection of stories, as well as how its different. There will be upcoming events related to the expected book launch, as well as free giveaways!
If you enjoy these stories but realize the book series may not be for you, please subscribe and continue reading to find out more about our Tailless Trails podcast. There, we will explore the messages, lessons, themes, and values embedded within these based-in-real-life stories, and speak with guests who help us gain a deeper understanding of child development, parenting, learning, and the art of telling stories to a young audience.
I love that picture of them 🥰
"Brother's fight sometimes." - Sammy - Stepbrothers