A Peanutty Farewell

Peanutty

A sad event this past week, and it's taken me a few days to write about it. My wonderful companion Peanut died of kidney failure. She was twelve years old. A sweeter, gentler fuzzball you couldn't find anywhere.

Snickers

We normally have two cats, and all through the spring and summer I kept getting the urge to get a third cat. Yes, no, yes, no. Finally I gave in a couple of months ago and Snickers joined our family. She is a great cat whose owners allowed her to get pregnant at six months. She was turned in as an underfed "stray" when she had her kittens. Bad owners, bad! We took her home the day after her kittens were weaned, as a scrawny thing, still a kitten herself, with about a quarter of her weight being the milk she carried. She's exuberant and playful now, reclaiming her kitten hood and tussling with our next-older cat, Marble, who is about three times her size. It's been amazing to see the spirit come back into her tired little body.  

What's odd about this picture of happiness with Marble and Snickers is that I essentially picked out Peanut's replacement right before she fell seriously ill. I don't know whether this makes me love and appreciate the new cat more, since she was a purring pillow for my tears. What I do know is that I brought her into the house for a reason--to help patch the hole in my heart before it was even there.