It was an enormous shock to all of us when Teddy Pinkleton passed away unexpectedly on the operating table one month and two days ago. She was all spunk and spitfire and she left a huge void when she departed, due largely to the tenacious hold she'd had on life, up to that point.
The day she passed away, I had taken both Teddy and Luna with me to the vet's office. Luna received her vaccination shots and Teddy was to be spayed.
When Luna and I returned home without Teddy later that day, there was a noticeable and immediate change in Luna's demeanor. By all accounts, she was glad to be rid of the irritating kitten that had dogged her steps without respite almost from the moment of her arrival four months prior. We couldn't blame her for feeling happy about resuming her role as the only cat in the house again.
What's been particularly interesting in the weeks following Teddy's death, however, is the addition of several new and, yet distinctly familiar, characteristics in Luna's behaviour. In addition to exhibiting a high degree of affection to us all, including Willow, she's been engaging in certain mischievous antics that used to be specific to Teddy.
Playfully leaping to the arm of the living room chair in order to take a swipe at Willow's tail as she passes beneath her batting paw.
Play fighting with Willow from relative safety beneath the coffee table.
Teddy used to love to play with wadded bits of discarded paper that collected inside a box I keep for recycling on my studio floor. It's smallish and Luna has taken to squeezing her full grown adult body inside the box to play as Teddy used to do.
I don't know that I believe Teddy's soul entered Luna there in the veterinarian's waiting room on that fateful day, but it would seem that her spirit most certainly did.
We're glad to have the little tyke back with us.