Growing up, we always had a cat around but one cat, Theodore, I’ll always remember.  Theodore was one of a kind with seven toes on one front paw and six on the other.  When he walked, his muscles rippled.  He wasn’t a small cat, and in fact, he ruled the neighborhood. 

          Throughout my early years, Theodore took countless hours of abuse from my sister and me as we dressed him with clothes, drug him around by the tale, and chased him around the house.  He was also my friend and consoled me when I was sad. 

          Early one morning, I was awakened by my mother’s voice yelling out the kitchen window.  I ran out to see what the matter was and found her panicked and crying.  It seemed that, even though old Theodore was a tough cat, he wasn’t tough enough to stop a pack of wild dogs who were attacking him.

          We had heard about those dogs in the neighborhood but hadn’t seen them before then.  Mother ran outdoors with broom in hand to chase them away, but it was too late.  It was raining that day and we all went outside only to see him laying there.  Mother asked me to bury him in the back yard.  I’ll never forget that day as I dug the hole while crying in the rain.

          I was in third grade at the time and, in school that day, we went to music class.  During class, one of the songs we sang was that old classic, ‘Señor Don Gato’ about a cat that falls off a roof and dies!  Of all songs to sing that day.  Needless to say, I cried.

          Later in life, we had other cats but none of them ever came close to old Theodore.   So tonight, here’s to you Theodore for putting up with us when we were young and for being the cool cat you were.  Maybe, one day we’ll meet again in heaven. 

Love always friend,

Brad