I grew up with cats, the first two of whom dad brought home in a saddlebag on the horse after he rescued them as kittens from the floods. There’ve been some in between, but until we were adopted by Duster No 1 years ago, I was never the one actually ‘in charge’. (To clarify – even if you say ‘my cat’, you are still not the boss.) Since we’ve lived in this house, we’ve had a few. Teddy arrived as a birthday present to me from the kids because they knew daddy wouldn’t let him stay otherwise. Teddy was smart. First thing he did when we brought him home was jump up on Robert’s lap and snuggle. End of discussion. Teddy was a real Aristo-cat. He did everything with style, and loved his personal decorations.
Though we said goodbye to Teddy just before Christmas 2009, we had 18 years of love from him and he brought much joy into our lives. He had long accepted Miss Mouse into the family and approved the entry of Miss Duster before he went. He was a very special puss. One Christmas he went for the ‘restrained’ look. Once we started getting better looking Christmas trees, Teddy took on the responsibility of guarding it until it was time to say goodbye on the Twelfth night.
Flamboyant was not a word in his vocabulary. He wasn’t bothered how gaudy or colourful, he loved to show off whatever we chose for him. Let it never be said either, that Teddy was just a Christmas puss. Chinese New Year meant a garland of cherry blossom, or mini angpows or even just a big red bow would make him happy.
And for every day… well, if the frangipani wasn’t in bloom, even grass would do.