I found Delilah as a small, sick kitten on June 2nd, 1992. I was out with friends in Rome looking for a Pizzeria to have a quick bite. As we stopped to go check the wait at this one place, we decided that it was too long and to look for another place. As we approached the car, I heard a faint meowing, and while at first we could not see anything, we looked closer and on top of one of the front tires was this sick looking, hungry, cold kitten. As everyone in turn tried to get him out, he hissed and tried to scratch out of fear; so I decided to give it a try. I whispered to him, and slowly put my hand close to his nose and within a few seconds we were bound for life. He sought warmth and refuge inside my jacket. Needless to say that he came along for the ride, to the restaurant (where he enjoyed several slices of ham and prosciutto) and then I took him home with me.
Delilah's faint meowing was barely audible to the ear of a former cannon shooter (my dear dad, who I lived with), so I kept him hidden in my bedroom for about two weeks and waited for an exam to go exceptionally well to give him the news. I must say, that caused the biggest argument I ever had with my father and as I needed to cool off, I left the house with my Delilah and as friends called the house he would graciously state that I had left because we had a slight difference of opinions. Every time I think about it, I can't help but laugh. Of course, I always had a way with both my parents, in the end, I always made them see things my way so after a long heartfelt talk, Delilah was here to stay.
Meanwhile, I had already started taking Delilah to the vet as he had many ailments, among which were every type of worm you could list, respiratory diseases, he was malnourished, had fleas and later found out that he had mange as well. The vet gave him a 50% chance of survival. He endured a couple of painful shots, lots of medication, two months of aerosol treatments and an initial diet consisting of egg yolk and sugar and boiled lung...all while getting to know me, playing and destroying my mother's silk sofa. Two months later Delilah was given a clean bill of health, although the doctor said that he would always have a slight heart murmur and would always wheeze a little because of how sick he had been and the lack of nutrition. Despite all of that he had a bright future ahead of him and so did I.
During his early life, Delilah had pretty much used up all of his 9 lives but somehow he managed to raffle up a few more: he also survived a fall from the third floor, a transatlantic flight and move to the USA, the birth of my daughter, an attack from a dog, three days lost in Falls Church, an attack from an Opossum, which caused him horrible infected bites, a stroke at 14, and thyroid cancer for 3 ½ years. He has been with me through the hardest and happiest moments of my life and will always occupy an enormous corner of my heart. He died in my arms on August 5th, 2009 and although heartbroken I felt the need to thank God for giving me such a long lasting gift.
His name, Delilah, came about because of my inability to tell the sex right away, and being a huge Queen/Freddy Mercury fan, I loved Freddy's song Delilah that he dedicated to his favorite cat.