ABIGOLD’S TEDDY EINSTEIN September 14, 1997 - May 10, 2007   My furkids and I mourn the loss of our beloved cat, Teddy, on May 10, 2007. Teddy was sweet and quiet throughout his life. He was a gentle soul who brought love to all of us. Teddy’s favorite things in life were his brother Toby, his mom (me), vanilla ice cream, turkey from my Subway sub, "foodies," Kevin's tail, a nap beside Libby, his carrier with soft fluffy bed, dark hiding places, toys with feathers, empty boxes, candles, being vacuumed with the upholstery attachment, and the back of the living room chair where he watched birds and chipmunks in the front yard. Teddy and his littermate brother Toby were given to me as gifts in 1997 when they were 8 weeks old. At that time, I was working at the Department of Energy and had two student aides, Silena and Cynthia, helping me in my office. I had just lost my beloved Golden Retriever, Lucie, after a 7-year battle with lymphoma. During Lucie’s illness, I had given some thought to getting two kittens, but because Lucie was so sick, the timing was not right. I had not owned kittens since my childhood, and I had decided that two gold kittens would complement my family of Golden Retrievers. (Back in those days, Libby and the Shelties had not joined my family, and I thought everyone should match.)  I was devastated after Lucie was gone, and Silena and Cynthia wanted to do something to lift my spirits. So, one Friday at work they asked if they could stop by my home later that evening. When I went to the door, they were standing on my front porch holding the most beautiful two gold kittens I had ever seen! They had driven all the way to Oakland, Maryland to get me gold kittens because there were none to be found in Morgantown. Teddy and his brother Toby were 8 weeks old and very tiny. Teddy weighed 2.4 pounds, and Toby weighed 1.8 pounds. Teddy was long-haired and all gold tabby, and Toby was short-haired and gold and white tabby. They were the most beautiful kittens in the world, and just what I had dreamed of having. I promptly named them Teddy Einstein and Toby Nathaniel. The names “Teddy” and “Nathaniel” mean “gifts from God.” They were truly gifts from God, as they helped to ease the pain of losing Lucie. Teddy’s middle name, Einstein, came about because he was the first one to use the litter box that first night. I was used to puppies who have many accidents, so I decided that Teddy was a genius–thus the name Einstein. As Teddy and Toby grew, they worked their way deeper and deeper into my heart. They also endeared themselves to the Goldens. Teddy loved to play with the big, fluffy Golden tails, and he found them just the right softness for taking a nap when he tired of playing his kitten games. As they grew, Teddy and Toby changed, and Teddy, who was the larger, dominant kitten became the smaller, subordinate cat. Teddy and Toby loved each other dearly and never missed a day of lying together and hugging each other as they slept. Teddy had an unhealthy fascination with candles. One evening when I was burning a candle, he was very curious and got so close that he singed his whiskers. After that, candles were either placed up high or not burned. Teddy was also fascinated by dried flower arrangements, plants, and my collection of Thomas Kincaid miniature houses. Many changes took place in order to cat-proof the house. In order to distinguish between the dogs and the cats in the household, Teddy and Toby became “the catboys.” They were always lovingly referred to as the catboys, and I could call out, “Catboys!” and have both of them run to me. Teddy was quiet, calm, and very sweet. He loved to hide and do “cat” activities. He only liked to be held when it was his choice, but he was always sweet and gentle. To prove his “cathood,” Teddy would occasionally catch a mouse if one managed to get into the house. I always recognized the low growl that was reserved for the special occasions when Teddy had caught a mouse. He would catch them, bring them to me, and drop them into a box, so I could dispose of them. Toby never had Teddy’s quickness to catch mice. He would look at Teddy holding a mouse as if to say, “Hey, where’d you get that? I want one!” In 2006, Teddy was diagnosed with kidney disease. This illness took over his body in about 10 months. Teddy tried valiantly to fight the disease and to stay with us, but it was not meant to be. On their last night together, Teddy and Toby slept on the foot of my bed, hugging each other as they had done every day for 9 years. Teddy was a gift from God to get me through a rough time in my life. On May 10, with me by his side, he returned to be with God. Teddy, my beautiful catboy, I will love you and remember you always. I will remember your sweetness, your high-pitched meow when you were calling me or Toby, your loud contented purring, your softness, and your gentle touch with your paw to get my attention. May God bless you and keep you in His loving arms until we meet again. Teddy, my dear sweet catboy... Softly the leaves of memory fall Gently I gather and treasure them all. Unseen, unheard you are always near Still missed, still loved, and very dear.