A little over a month ago, my sweet funny little old man Ted left to be with his Original Person forever and ever. I always realized this was just a stop on his way there, and find much comfort these days believing they're together.
Like most rescued companions, Ted was a Cat of Mystery, although many of his mysteries became easier to guess during the 2 years he shared his life with us. Quiet, shy, and reserved, he had obviously lived a long, happy, peaceful life with Original Person; his home must have been very small and tidy, with very particular rules, patterns and traditions. He tried to continue those patterns and traditions with us, but we were pretty slow to learn most of them.
He had been the apple of someone's eye, the center of attention in their quiet little world, and probably hadn't known hardship or adversity of any kind until his quiet little world turned inside out and upside down, eventually landing him in the good hands of the kind folks at PAWS.
I will so miss those weird, crooked, lanky legs and long feet, like big old loose socks hanging off the ends of his toes.
He was horrified by the concept of sitting on a lap and attempts at such were always bizarre and ended awkwardly. But he never ran away afterward; he would just perch right next to me and purr, as if to teach me the proper way cats and humans should sit together.
He owned the bed
but would allow the rest of us to share it.
Even George.
I miss his polite manners. When he was dissatisfied with the state of his food dish, he would just stare at it, as long as it took. If I were to walk by, he'd catch my eye and quietly nod his head at me in a "hey, how you doin'?" sort of way. If for some reason that didn't work, he would open that giant mouth from ear to ear, baring every long jagged tooth inside, and let out the softest, airiest, most dainty little meow I've ever heard.
I don't, however, miss his extreme litter-box requirements. Never met a cat as incredibly particular about that aspect of his life. But that was a small price to pay for living with such a sweetie.
And seriously, what was up with those feet?
I miss waking up to that disapproving glare, staring down at me from my headboard...
...but he was just waiting for his morning scritches.
Most people would have assumed he was not an affectionate fellow,
when in fact he was incredibly lovey and affectionate.
He was just particular about the schedule and rules that went with it.
And he went nuts over having his face brushed.
When it got closer to his time, like all animal companions I have known, he had his little Bucket List. It was maybe a little less adventurous than some: it consisted mainly of eating more than he ever had before and sitting in windows he hadn't visited for a while.
Even if that meant sharing them with George.
He put it off until the very end, but finally he gave me the gift that for 2 years I'd been wishing for: he curled up under my arm and cuddled up next to me harder than ever before - and for that little while he was all mine, and I was all his, and there was nothing else.
Sweet Little Old Man of My Heart, I will cherish your funny little memory forever. I will always miss your rectangle eyes and that disapproving glare, your ridiculous amount of angles and corners and that feathery-soft fur like no other cat I've ever touched.
I like to think that right now you are curled up next to Original Person, having your face brushed, purring that crazy-loud purr as you smile at each other. I know you missed him, and I'm sure he missed you too, and it makes me happy to believe you're together again. Thanks for letting us be part of your life.
And, well, then there's this guy.
