A Different Green: Samson, Redux

Thursday, February 2, 2012

Samson, Redux

No great revelations here, and it's not a year yet since he passed, but I found some pictures of Samson that I wanted to share.

A cardboard box shaped like a house; you can just see a white kitty face (and one paw) peeking out the front window.

Buddy's Bar-B-Q, down in Knoxville, delivers their various meals in lovely boxes shaped like (and the perfect size for) kitty houses. Wade had at one of them with a box knife to add a door and some windows for my boys, and they all enjoyed it, but Samson? He loved the thing.

He doesn't look happy in this picture, but he never did. He was, though.

It was his hidey-hole, his Sekrit Lair. He'd lurk inside, burst out to ambush Loiosh or Chocolate. Or he'd just curl up inside and pretend the rest of the world (especially those humans) wasn't there. It was his safe place, and his favourite napping spot.

I miss my Samson. I wish Emily had gotten to meet him, too. I think he'd've loved her just as much as he loved Loiosh.

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Voices at the Door

I sit beside the fire and think
of all that I have seen,
of meadow-flowers and butterflies
in summers that have been;
Of yellow leaves and gossamer
in autumns that there were,
with morning mist and silver sun
and wind upon my hair.
I sit beside the fire and think
of how the world will be
when winter comes without a spring
that I shall ever see.
For still there are so many things
that I have never seen:
in every wood in every spring
there is a different green.
I sit beside the fire and think
of people long ago,
and people who will see a world
that I shall never know.
But all the while I sit and think
of times there were before
I listen for returning feet
and voices at the door.
-- J.R.R. Tolkien
The Fellowship of the Ring