Baby Teggs, as her name implies, was the daughter of my cat Teggs.
She was a cuddly kitten who grew into a cuddly cat.
She was like a rag doll when anyone picked her up and she would have purred if anyone swung her round the room by the tail. Not that anyone did, she was much too cuddly for that.
I had delivered her of course when her mother went hysterical in labour so I had had an especially soft spot for her.
Everyone loved her – except for her mother.
When Baby Teggs became an adult, she was bigger than her mother, stronger than mother but, sadly she was very very stupid and was outmaneuvered every time.
Home became a battle ground where I discovered that cats don’t make peace. They just fight until they win – or in Baby Teggs’ case, lose.
Poor thing. There was no alternative, she had to go and live elsewhere.
She might not have noticed the change of scene as I was never quite sure if she ever really understood anything.
She was very cuddly though – like a living soft toy.