But not only is he a type of domestic shark who spends most of his time up one tree or other in the garden waiting for birds to pop into his mouth, but he disappeared the other day; didn't come home for a day, which he hasn't ever done in his life before
I did the usual 5K search (a family ritual when any one of the animals goes missing). This Bessie enjoys immensely, it being an extra walk on top of her evening stone chasing event, all the time thinking he'll be back later and not worrying too much about it. But then, but then.... I come across this pile of, well I don't know what it was..excrement, vomit? in the grass in the upper garden. And oh my, it looked like bits of Socksie, black and white fur, mixed in with whatever it was. I didn't dare say anything to Lili and went back two or three times to check again, even much later in the night with a torch.. rifling through it with plastic gloves on and finding bits of bone and gristle.
At that stage, I began to lose it, convinced as I was, that he's probably been eaten by a crafty old fox: not unknown during these dark January nights when the animals are starving. Thought I'd collect his bits together and take them to the local vet in the morning for analysis, (yet again to suffer her annoying habit of always replying to my bad Italian in bad English).
All these things running through my head as I prepared to give Lili the tragic news.
I take a deep breath, and ..and......
At that very moment he walks into the kitchen!
Socks!!
The prodigal Socks.
Hugged and squeezed and triple fed, bounced around and cosseted.
With a 'What is all the fuss about' look on his face
