My P

I need to write a serious story about my cat, Peanut Edward Kimball, who died from liver cancer a few weeks ago. I'm not a Crazy Cat Lady, but I really loved that guy. A lot. I got Peanut when he was about 1 or 2 weeks old, 13 years ago.

This picture isn't of Peanut, because I don't have my pictures with me now, but this is roughly the size he was when I first got him.

His feral mom gave birth to him and his 5 siblings in my carport in San Diego while my then-husband and I were on vacation in Utah. Upon returning home from said vacation, my then-husband discovered them in the carport and brought them inside. Somehow, he felt that we (I) would be a better parent to 6 kittens than their mother was. So I spent the next 2 months being a cat mom to 6 kittens, bottle-feeding (every 4 hours, day and night), weaning, bathing them (6 nasty cases of fleas) and rubbing their little bellies so they could do their business.

They grew quickly, and for some reason, Peanut quickly adopted me as his mom. While the other kittens played or slept together, Peanut always came wobbling over in my direction, climbed up the couch, climbed up me, and made himself a little nest in my hair and fell asleep while I read or watched tv.

When it came time to give the kittens away, Peanut, the runt of the litter by a full half a body size, had a respiratory infection. I decided to keep him for an extra week until he was healthy and, as they say, the rest is history.

Peanut and his best friend of 13 years, Buddy, traveled far and wide with me and Jay. They traveled all over Italy. They spent two weeks in Rome, a week in Cervin, a week in Chamonix, France, and of course, 14 months in Montebelluna, Italy.

While in Montebelluna, Italy, Peanut was a big fan of our neighbor's Beagle, Speck. Speck was a
sweetheart of a dog and would go crazy trying to get to Peanut through the fence, and Peanut would just lay there, lounging in the sun, pretending to ignore Speck. It was an interspecies flirtation and Jay and I just turned a blind eye. You can't help who you love, can you?

















Peany* also loved his Italian patio, with full-time sun in the summer and winter. He would sleep out on his little mat for hours in the sun, and then again after dark, his favorite time of day. We had to drag him in late every night, with him complaining all the way. (*It's all right to say Peany without giggling like some people do. It's clearly short for Peanut, not anatomical parts of men. Sorry, Michele)


I could go on forever about my P. I miss him.

We found out immediately before Christmas that he had cancer. He had dumped tons of weight very fast and was extremely jaundiced. It wasn't looking good for Mr. P around Christmas, but then with the help of megadoses of steroids, he really rallied and lived a brave and happy life until he died on February 29, 13 years to the day after his June 29 birthday.

When Peanut died, Jay did what he does best when he's sad or mad; he jumped to action. He ran to Home Depot and bought supplies to make Peany a nice pine box. Then we buried him (Peanut) in my mother-in-law's backyard. Because we currently live with my mother-in-law. We had a very nice little funeral for him, with many tears shed. Peanut and Bud have been with me for a WHOLE lot of stuff and they were there for me every step of the way. 13 years is a long time.

The next day Jay and I bought some flowers and stuff and planted a little Peanut Garden in the corner where he is buried. I never would have thought of doing it. It was Jay's idea, and while it seemed a little weird, and quite possibly overkill at first, I really got into it, and it made me feel sooo much better. I still have some tulip and crocus bulbs to plant, for when the annuals die. Because nobody will be tending to his garden when we move from here, he needs some plants that will pop up every year. Here's Peanut's Corner...







The last picture is Buddy keeping me company while I work outside. He is incredibly lonely now. I feel very bad for him. He's so used to constant cat company, it breaks my heart. He walks around meowing and looking for his friend. I feel no need to replace Peanut, but I am starting to feel very strongly that Bud needs a friend. Because he's wearing me out. But I'm sure that will be another story for another day...

Thank you for oohing and aahing over my cat. I would do the same for yours.