Sammy - that’s short for Samantha - is a year older than when we last saw her down at Chez Eli. She’s looking more substantial, less waif-like every year.
She is still alternately shy and feral, but there is no question but that she has become more mellow, even unto the point of permitting me to give her head-skritches without trying to rip my arm off.
It helps that I have the Family Pheromones. Sammy is devoted to Eli, and my brother and I smell enough like him (I suppose) that she will deign to put up with us. But cuddly and Excessively Friendly, à la Matata, she is not.
She is a beauty, though...
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