Sammy, or rather, Sammy!

If you're going to follow this dog's story, you're going to need a sense of the different characters. Today let's talk about Sammy, or rather, Sammy!

There is a growing number of words that we can't say around Ozma. We can't say them because they get her so excited, and it seems somehow wrong to do that. It's like teasing her, or breaking faith with a child.

We can't say "walk," because she'll leap around, ready to go for one, so we say "W."
We can't say "ride," because she'll leap around, ready to get in the car, so we say, "R." Bones become Buh, chicken ch, or chick (although that one's dangerous), and then there is the pack.

The pack is Oz's ever-growing list of friends. Some she only knows by sound, like Gunnar. Gunnar's the UPS man, and when his truck comes near, Oz is looking out the window. Some she knows by smell, like Chris, who apparently smells like dognip.

Then there's Emma, Jackson (Jax), Tug (AKA Tugger, or Tugs), Baby!, Sherry, Bear, Jessie, Chris (this one's a dog), and so on. But my dog's favorite friend is Sammy, or again, Sammy!
Sammy's special because Sammy's a cat, a slender, winding, gray striped tiger cat. Sammy lives with Tug and Jackson, which explains his relaxation around dogs, but he comes running to see us, which I take as completely our due.

Oz has long wanted to chase cats, and I've always been a little nervous, what with the whole cat/dog thing. But Kathy had long contended that Oz just wanted to play and investigate, and it turns out she's right. Once Sammy showed a willingness to not run away, which became a willingness to wind around protective objects, he became Oz's favorites. This produces the bizarre sight of a dog running past other dogs to vibrate near a cat, and, perhaps odder, the sight of a cat coming when called, running a block and a half to visit us. And yesterday…