Samantha the Cat did something totally out of character.

Interrupting her afternoon nap — what? — she actually found her way past cords, plugs and assorted devices to tumble across the computer keyboard.

She’d never before shown the slightest interest in any household technology.

Sammie peered at the words and brushed her paws over a few letters, all of which would have been a really cute diversion...except for the story on the screen at the time.

It was about the battle that the People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA) is waging against “no-kill” humane shelters.

Yes, I’m sure that does sound like a strange campaign, and we’ll discuss it in a second.

But what were the odds that Sammie would go to considerable trouble, nearly tangling herself in wires, to inspect a computer screen on THAT particular day?

To inspect (if we’re really dreaming here)...THAT particular story?

TO BE fair, if Sammie could speak up, she certainly would be qualified to discuss the subject at hand.

She’s been through this debate, only as a participant and not as a talking head from some national organization.

Nobody’s quite sure of Sammie’s background for the first four-plus years of her life, but we do know that someone wanted rid of her.

She was chucked into a box and abandoned in a parking lot.

Fortunately for Sammie (and her new roommate, the guy with his picture on this column), she was dumped outside the Kootenai Humane Society facility at the very end of North Ramsey Road.

There are plenty of old-style shelters in the United States — municipally funded operations that must take in all animals, but have no way to keep them if they aren’t adopted in a reasonable time.

The statistics are grim: Shelters like that wind up euthanizing about half of the dogs and cats they house.

If an animal is grouchy or unattractive or fails to tempt a potential owner for whatever reason, that pet is almost certain to be killed as the shelter makes room for a new arrival that might have better luck.

“WE HAVE a different situation,” said Vicky Nelson, director of development at the Kootenai shelter. “We’re self-funded through donations and other means, so we can make our own decisions about keeping animals however long we want — always hoping that someone will turn up to give them a good home.”

It’s not an exaggeration to say that Sammie was lucky.

Well, maybe she could have done better than my apartment, but she’s loved and warm and fed... and appears to be pretty pleased with the whole situation.

But it could have been a close call in so many ways.

First of all, Nelson said that the average adoption time for cats is just 17 days, and Sammie (whose shelter name was “Olive”) managed to hang around for more than four months.

When I showed up at the shelter, looking for a cat that “liked people and wouldn’t tear up a place,” they brought me to Olive.

I was allowed to take her out of a cage and then spend some “alone time” in a special room where potential matches can be made.

It’s actually a little bit like speed-dating — except that this cat had me at “Meow!”

She was more than happy to be cuddled, petted and so forth, clearly enjoyed human company, and never once used her claws for anything.

I can’t speak for Sammie, but on my end it was love at first sight.

THE FIRST thing I asked one of the shelter workers — after I’d made the easy decision to take this sweetie home — was how in the world she’d been stuck in that cage for more than four months.

Who would NOT want this darling?

“It’s sad but it’s pretty simple,” the young woman told me. “She’s black, and people still believe those crazy superstitions about black cats.

“It’s always harder to adopt out a black one.”

Huh?

That’s nuts.

In case you’re wondering (and just because I’m dying to share this part), Olive became Samantha that afternoon, and although she predictably didn’t enjoy the ride home in another box, things were peachy by nightfall.

(Sammie is sitting on my lap as I type this, in fact, and I’ve got to say — sorry for you other cat owners — she’s the coolest thing on paws.)

So in our case, things couldn’t have worked out better.

But what about this brawl going on between many shelter operators and the very loud opposition from PETA?

One recent poll showed that 70 percent of the American public was in favor of “no kill” shelters, but PETA — which is nothing if not strident about its various positions — is determined to point out that many, many “no-kill” facilities are worse for animals than a quick and humane death.

I THINK it’s fair to say that even PETA would approve of the way the Kootenai Humane Society runs its shelter.

Even though the animals must be confined a good share of the time, the wonderful staff and volunteers make sure their charges are healthy, exercised and given proper diets along with medical care.

PETA, though, isn’t in the business of deciding who is doing things right.

When the organization takes a stand, it always assumes the worst — rationalizing that using such a broad brush protects animals in general.

Daphna Nachminovitch, PETA’s senior vice president for cruelty investigations, insists that conditions in some “no-kill” shelters are horrible.

“If you don’t euthanize animals due to overcrowding, they get into fights,” Nachminovitch said in a SLATE interview.

“They injure each other. They kill each other. They spin around and throw themselves against the cage. They stop eating. They get sick, and they eventually die. This is the reality.”

Perhaps, but properly run “no-kill” shelters are ALSO a large and growing reality that PETA doesn’t seem keen to acknowledge.

So on behalf of the Kootenai Humane Society, I will.

No, better yet, Sammie will.

I’m pretty sure that she wouldn’t be all that high on PETA’s logic.

Four months in a cage and still no adoption?

How would you like her chances of sleeping next to me tonight?

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Steve Cameron is a special assignment reporter for The Press. Reach Steve at scameron@cdapress.com.