Okay, okay.
She had that broody look again. It wasnt only milk she spooned into him over the next few days. Beef essence, strained broth and a succession of sophisticated baby foods found their way down his throat at regular intervals. One lunch time I found Helen kneeling by the box.
We shall call him Oscar, she said.
You mean were keeping him?
Yes.
I am fond of cats but we already had a dog in our cramped quarters and I could see difficulties. Still I decided to let it go.
Why Oscar?
I dont know.
Helen tipped a few drops of chop gravy onto the little red tongue and watched intently as he swallowed. One of the things I like about women is their mystery, the unfathomable part of them, and I didnt press the matter further. But I was pleased at the way things were going. I had been giving the sulphapyridine every six hours and taking the temperature night and morning, expecting all the time to encounter the roaring fever, the vomiting and the tense abdomen of peritonitis. But it never happened.
It was as though Oscars animal instinct told him he had to move as little as possible because he lay absolutely still day after day and looked up at usand purred. His purr became part of our lives and when he eventually left his bed, sauntered through to our kitchen and began to sample Sams dinner of meat and biscuit it was a moment of triumph. And I didnt spoil it by wondering if he was ready for solid food; I felt he knew. From then on it was sheer joy to watch the furry scarecrow fill out and grow strong, and as he ate and ate and the flesh spread over his bones the true beauty of his coat showed in the glossy medley of auburn, black and gold. We had a handsome cat on our hands. Once Oscar had recovered, Tristan was a regular visitor. He probably felt, and rightly, that he, more than I, had saved Oscars life in the first place and he used to play with him for long periods. His favourite ploy was to push his leg round the corner of the table and withdraw it repeatedly just as the cat pawed at it. Oscar was justifiably irritated by this teasing but showed his character by lying in wait for Tristan one night and biting him smartly in the ankle before he could start his tricks.
From my own point of view Oscar added many things to our menage. Sam was delighted with him and the two soon became firm friends; Helen adored him and each evening I thought afresh that a nice cat washing his face by the hearth gave extra comfort to a room.
Oscar had been established as one of the family for several weeks when I came in from a late call to find Helen waiting for me with a stricken face.
Whats happened? I asked. Its Oscarhes gone!
Gone? What do you mean?
Oh, Jim, I think hes run away.
I stared at her. He wouldnt do that. He often goes down to the garden at night. Are you sure he isnt there?
Absolutely. Ive searched right into the yard. Ive even had a walk around the town. And remember, her chin quivered, he he ran away from somewhere before.
I looked at my watch. Ten oclock. Yes, that is strange.He shouldnt be out at this time.
As I spoke the front door bell jangled. I galloped down the stairs and as I rounded the corner in the passage I could see Mrs. Heslington, the vicars wife, through the glass. I threw open the door. She was holding Oscar in her arms.
I believe this is your cat, Mr. Herriot, she said.
It is indeed, Mrs. Heslington. Where did you find him?
She smiled. Well, it was rather odd. We were having a meeting of the Mothers Union at the church house and we noticed the cat sitting there in the room.
Just sitting ?
Yes, as though he were listening to what we were saying and enjoying it all.
It was unusual. When the meeting ended I thought Id better bring him along to you.
Im most grateful, Mrs. Heslington. I snatched Oscar and tucked him under my arm.
My wife is distraughtshe thought he was lost.
It was a little mystery. Why should he suddenly take off like that? But since he showed no change in his manner over the ensuing week we put it out of our minds.
Then one evening a man brought in a dog for an inoculation and left the front door open. When I went up to our flat I found that Oscar had disappeared again. This time Helen and I scoured the market place and side alleys in vain and when we returned at half past nine we were both despondent. It was nearly eleven and we were thinking of bed when the door bell rang. It was Oscar again, this time resting on the ample stomach of Jack Newbould.
Jack was leaning against the doorpost and the fresh country air drifting in from the dark street was richly intermingled with beer fumes. Jack was a gardener at one of the big houses. He hiccuped gently and gave me a huge benevolent smile.
Brought your cat, Mr.Herriot.
Gosh, thanks, Jack! I said, scooping up Oscar gratefully.
Where the devil did you find him?
Well, smatter o fact, e sort of found me.
What do you mean?
Jack closed his eyes for a few moments before articulating carefully.
Thish is a big night, tha knows, Mr. Herriot. Darts championship. Lots of tlads round at tDog and Gunlotsh and lotsh of em. Big gathering.