For no clear reason, the song in my head has changed to Here Comes the Sun.
Little darling, it seems the ice is slowly melting
Little darling, it feels like years since it’s been here
Here comes the sun
Here comes the sun
It’s both sunny and icy, and Delilah (kitten) is unsure of the wisdom of venturing outdoors – I’d say she had perfect sense. However, I feel as though I’m cast in the role of singing “little darling”…
A little while back I said there was something particularly sweet about Delilah – Mum said the girl at the vet was saying how lovely she was. I said they wouldn’t have said that about Samson, and Mum laughed at the thought. Samson is all round-eyed tom… young, gangling, cautious and shy, but definitely a (neutered) tom.
There’s something motherly about Delilah, though still a kitten with sharp claws – an oxymoron, almost. (I’m starting to lose all faith in the existence of oxymorons, but that’s for another blog post). Delilah’s not sure about going outside, but Samson let himself out before I was quite ready… just like Sharky did. He seemed to be getting on fine, and didn’t run off anywhere, so I relaxed. Watching them milling about at suppertime, I said to Mum “it occurred to me I shouldn’t worry about them running away – it’s more likely we will never get rid of them!”
Later that night when it got dark, we were watching TV. I glimpsed Samson moving stealthily in the darkness of the hall. A couple of times his eyes turned towards us, shining like lamps. It put me in mind of Sharky disappearing one night quite soon after we got here. We didn’t know if he knew his way back, and left the doors open till he finally came back. It got chilly and we put our coats on. On that occasion, Sharky had moved about in the hall just the same way, flashing his eyes.
During a commercial break, I left the room and came upon Delilah, sitting in the middle of the hallway. “Delilah says her boyfriend is missing,” I said. I didn’t look round to see if he was there or not, and hadn’t known he had left the house… but I knew what Delilah was saying.
“No, he’s not – he’s right there!” said Mum, pointing at his bed.
“Oh,” I said, mentally kicking myself for reading something into the body language of cats that hadn’t been there, but when we reached Samson’s bed, we found it empty.
We did the leaving-doors-open-wearing-coats thing. He was gone till the early hours of the morning, and Delilah was very worried and upset. Every time we took a walk around outside, she peeked out as well, and stared into the dark with sorrowful eyes.
I took her to watch the film with me – it was Jewel of the Nile. The girl in the film was imprisoned by her mortal enemy, who told her “your man is dead.” She gasped in shock and said “no, he’s not! He wouldn’t die without telling me!” We looked at Delilah, and smiled.
Now, every time Samson comes back from somewhere, Delilah grabs him round the neck and says “come here, I have to check that you’re all in one piece.” Mum complained once that Delilah wouldn’t let her out the front door… she parked herself in front of it and scowled.
We were discussing where Samson went to that night, as we thought maybe something happened to make him think twice about going out the next day. “He can’t tell us,” shrugged Mum.
“If anybody could tell us, it would be Delilah,” I said, and we giggled at the thought. That girl makes her feelings known. Wouldn’t you be glad to have her in your corner?