I was buoyed to read Denise Heatlie’s letter (BCT January 9) regarding Sam the Hospice cat.
Sam, originally “Baby”, was born on New Year’s Eve 2006, in the bottom of our shoe cupboard.
The product of a “rescue cat” mother, and a neighbourhood tom, Sam spent his informative years exploring Western Extension while relying on us for his sustenance and lodging.
It was obvious though, that he had inherited his father’s wandering genes, and gradually we would see less and less of him around the house.
Eventually we were only graced with the odd visitation, but judging from his girth and shiny coat, it was apparent that he was being very well cared for elsewhere.
We would often catch a glimpse of him in the area, and were thrilled to reconnect with him at recent Hospice fetes, and to learn that he is as large and as affable as ever.
He has obviously found his true calling at Hospice, and we were delighted to hear about all his escapades over the years
