Teagan

Teagan Shane came into my life when he crossed the road in front of me on the way home from work. I watched hoping he would go home and stay out of the street to no avail. After talking to people in that neighborhood, not finding anyone to adopt him and hearing that kids tried to trap him in a mailbox, I adopted him.
When I set him down inside my house, Cameron and Phoenix (middle-aged male cats) walked straight to him and licked his forehead. It was the easiest time I’ve ever had introducing a new cat and Teagan wasn’t even neutered.
For about three years, Teagan climbed trees daily, hopped around the yard chasing imaginary bugs and was excessively affectionate. By that, I mean he broke my glasses rubbing his face against mine. Yes, he did learn to curb his enthusiasm and be gentler.
He would stretch out his arms, sometimes reaching up the wall toward me, make his “pick me up” sound and them spend several minutes rubbing his face against mine. That brought about his nickname of “comfort,” and that’s what I miss most now that he’s gone.
In the fall of 2003, he stopped eating for two weeks. I tried to get a vet to diagnose him, but when North Shore didn’t test his blood and antibiotics didn’t help, we resorted to vitamin C. After a couple of weeks of making him swallow baby food from an eye dropper giving the amount of vitamin C recommended in Dr. Pitcairn’s Natural Health book, Teagan completely recovered.
Until October 2011, he was active and affectionate. He spent most of the day sitting on the rug of the window seat in the office where I work. Whenever I would sneeze, he’d jump down, come over to the desk and jump up to see me. Then, he’d either snuggle in my lap or jump onto the back of my chair while I worked on the computer.
He didn’t climb trees much in his later years, but still chased imaginary bugs in the grass. I say imaginary because the other cats never joined in Teagan’s bug-a-thons and Teagan never caught any. He just had a ball hopping around pretending to catch some.
One of his favorite outside spots was the patio where he soaked up sun between the geraniums. He also had a favorite spot to sharpen his claws on the fence and loved the open field behind the house.
If I decided it was time to go inside before he did, I was in for a game of run and hide, but he’d go to the door first when the weather turned cool. On bad weather days, he preferred to sleep in the sunny window indoors.
He’s the only cat I’ve known who was so comforting by rubbing his face against mine, and he put on the biggest outdoor show. Whether he was running up trees or jumping through the grass, he was a joy to watch.
I’m grateful our paths crossed so long ago and he shared his affection and playfulness with me for about a decade.
I buried him in the part of the yard next to his favorite playground and covered his grave with purple monkshood flowers.