He had just turned two in July.
He was never called Mayhem; he was always called Teresa because Teresa gave him to us as a baby.
He was our Tim Burton cat—never cuddly, never friendly, a little bit of an oddball.
You know, some say we shouldn't cry and mourn the loss of a pet.
They're only animals, only cats, only dogs, only hamsters.
They're individuals.
They have a personality. They have a presence.
They're our babies as much as our human babies.
Teresa the cat will be very much missed. Every time I reach into a dark shelf, or a dark clothes hamper, or walk past the cat tree, I will think of him.
He didn't have a long life, but we gave him a great life.
He never knew hunger. He never knew pain. He never had to live outside and wake up every day wondering how he'd survive another day. He had vet care and a family that tried to love on him—even if he hated being loved on.
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