I adopted Teddy in 1999. She was a pretty sad little kitten, rescued from a parking lot in Brooklyn known for it's population of feral cats. She was only 4 weeks old, and not completely feral. She tolerated being held and medicated for 2 weeks in the animal hospital that I worked at part time on weekends. When I left her the first weekend, I felt sorry for her and thought that she was pretty cute. By the second weekend, she was definitely a little less friendly, tired of being medicated for her upper respiratory infection. By the third weekend, she was actually disgusting. The cornea of her left eye had ruptured and what used to be an eyeball looked like nothing I could describe without turning the average person's stomach. The busy staff did little more than medicate her and feed her as there were many other needy patients that were far more appreciative of their efforts. So, as any young veterinarian would, I decided that I'd have to take her home. I surgically removed the horribly infected eye, and a few hours later boarded the Amtrak from NYC where I was weekend moonlighting to Philly where I lived.
At only 6 weeks old, she made fast friends with my yellow lab. She really could not have cared less about me. For the first 12 years, she hung out with the dog, ate the cat food that I provided and politely used the litter box, but really didn't care for human attention. In December 2003, her friend died. I think that she was really sad, because that was the first time that she decided to try and make friends with me. About 6 months later we adopted a dog, and I think that I heard her breathe a sigh of relief. She just loves dogs! She doesn't need me anymore. Oh well.
Watch Teddy give Ozzie a massage, she does this several times daily.
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