Two weeks ago as I left for work, I noticed the neighbor's dog asleep across the road beside something small, furry, and black. My heart sank.... "Maybe it's just an old rag, or something," I thought. But when I stopped the truck and walked back, my fears were confirmed. It was little Teddy. It appeared that the dog had caught her some time during the night and killed her.
I took Teddy's body back to the house and we buried her in the back yard.
Some people think that animals don't experience "loss." Maybe some don't. But Teddy's mother did. I didn't show her Teddy's lifeless body...it never occurred to me that I should have done that. But it was obvious that night that Chezza knew Teddy was missing...she spent about four days alternating between looking for her kitten, calling for her, and just sitting and staring. She was always a very good mother, and I wondered what she thought when Teddy didn't come back.
Chezza seems fine now. She has either accepted that Teddy is gone, or has forgotten about her. I haven't forgotten though -- I just try not to think too much about how terrified she must have been during the final moments of her life. I hope somewhere there is a little "kitty heaven" and that she's up there bossing everyone else around -- our little "Teddy with a 'tude."
