A cat called Teddy ( 2003-2018 )

Nearly 15 years ago, a Birman kitten was born called Alishma Teddington Bear, but we knew him simply as Teddy or sometimes Teddy-Boy. He came to us from Australia in a crate in the cargo hold of a big jet along with his sister, who had been bought by a breeder, but Teddy was to be our first family pet. I picked him up from Hong Kong airport cargo terminal after midnight on a cataclysmically wet night of thunder and lightning. We often wonder if his early warning abilities and fear of storms stemmed from his first night in Hong Kong.

When we got home, everybody was asleep including our two boys, aged 6 and 4, who then shared a bedroom and liked their door slightly ajar. Teddy settled down quickly and I went to bed. He must have had a snoop around because that morning, I awoke to find the two boys and Teddy collapsed asleep on the sofa after a night of party and play.  

There are very many fond memories of Teddy. For instance, once, when we moved flat in Hong Kong, a trying experience for all including the pets, and were busy unpacking the whole day. It was only the next day, we realised that we hadn’t seen Teddy for the whole day and his food was not touched. We searched high and low, inside and outside, but could not find him and became fearful that he had been accidentally let out of the flat, when we were clearing out the packing boxes. That evening, very sad, we reluctantly went out to get some dinner.

On the way to dinner,our son Michael commented that it was all right if we did not recover Teddy, as long as whoever found him, was good to him, which opened the floodgates of tears. Nicholas, on the other hand, tucking into his dinner with gusto, was optimistic and assured us that Teddy would turn up. Well, shortly after, our helper, Carina, did find Teddy, who had squeezed himself into an impossibly small gap between some golf bags in the storeroom to have a well-earned day’s rest after the stresses of the move. Finding dark nooks and crannies to sleep in was one of his daily habits.

Teddy was a domestic cat with no opportunity to leave the flat, but he was always curious of the outside world and looking for a way to get out, often walking through our legs at the front door. Some weeks later, he did indeed escape one morning, and we only knew he was missing when the building concierge rang our doorbell while we were getting ready for work, holding Teddy, who had walked down the rear fire escape stairs. Ironically, but very fortunately, the concierge had remembered the posters that we had passed around, when Teddy had gone ‘missing’ the first time.

One of our fondest memories was when we were staying in Italy for three months at an old ‘modernised’ medieval stone house with a beautiful landscaped garden. Teddy would insist on his twice daily prowl around the garden to satisfy his explorer instincts. Not satisfied with the vast garden, he would also check the perimeter for a way out.

Teddy was a cat with bags of character and his presence was always felt around the house. He would follow you around the house like a shadow, looking to see what you were doing, quick to jump on work surfaces to get a better view. He would double meow to let you know what he wanted and slide against you, curling his tail  or paw round you  to get you to follow him to the kitchen to put down the food or to where he wanted you to go.

In fact, Teddy has a meow for every occasion. There is a short meow to say: hello, I’m here! Another short sharp meow to tell you to stop petting him, Another whiny meow in the morning to wake us up (accompanied by rhythmic thumping of his paw against our bedroom door). And of course, his long wailing meow, before he jumped onto our bed to announce that he was having his afternoon nap.

As well as conversational skills, Teddy had a sense of rhythm. He discovered that if he batted the partition door that separated the living area from the bedrooms in a certain way, the door would reverberate with a consistent beat. He especially liked do that on Saturday and Sunday mornings, when we hoped for a lie in, but he thought it was time for us to get up. When we opened the door and he could tell that we were angry, he would run away. We finally resolved this by water-spray behavioural management.

While, we have Magnus, our dog, who arrived as third pet after Teddy and Tiger, our other cat, Teddy was always the alpha-animal. He would nip Magnus’ leg if he was in the way or do a paw swipe if the dog was too slow to move out of the way. Teddy was also a bit of a bully to poor Tiger (our slightly overweight British shorthair cat), ambushing Tiger as he exited the litter tray or forcing him into a corner, when he was irritable – especially at night and particularly when Tiger had scoffed all of the food. We think that he wanted to be the only cat.

He was, in no way, a lap cat, but if you caught him in the mood, he might let you hug him for 30 seconds, before he started squirming to get down, but on other occasions he might come and lie against me on the couch or lie his chin on my leg. While I was on the laptop and lifted my arm to type, his paw would come up and over to bring down my arm to pet him.

Teddy’s presence and habits became a fixture in our house. In his own way, he was a life that lit up our family. Sadly, his health suddenly deteriorated in November 2018 and in those few days before he died, it is difficult to remember feeling such grief. Now that he has gone, we feel this void and miss having him around and when he used to greet us at the door and every morning. While, he has passed, the memories of Teddy will live on - always loved, always remembered!

Rest in peace, Teddy boy.

(Click on pics to enlarge)