Bye Peanut

As I started this entry, the tiny, lifeless body of one of the coolest cats I’ve ever known rests at my feet in his little bed. His fur coat…saturated with the tears Cindy and I have shed over the past 3 days as we watched his amazingly bright light slowly fade from this world.

11 years ago, I inherited the “second favorite human” title from a beautiful Snowshoe feline named Peanut. For reasons unknown to anyone, he always found my lap when we visited the Elliott household. He was so laidback it was as if he was stoned all the time. Peanut loved to be held and to be around family.

This year, Peanut turned 76 human years old. And although he had always been skinny, he had been reduced to skin and bones. You see, mister kitty had been fighting health problems for years.

He continued to march on so he could be with his #1 human, the family’s youngest daughter. She loved him dearly -so much so that even when she wasn’t home, she’d call and insist her mother put Peanut on FaceTime so she could chat with him.

This week, the family went on vacation. Cindy and I volunteered to watch their house and care for the Nut. He didn’t like being alone and would always come running through the house yelling at us when we walked in -almost like “Heey, I’m here! I’m here!”

For the first few days, he was fine, but his health suddenly took a dramatic turn. He would neither eat nor drink. He also couldn’t make it to the litter box and wound up peeing wherever he was laying, then just lay there in it. Peanut’s strength was evaporating. He could barely walk.

Three days ago we began spending the night with him. He laid on the floor over a heat duct in order to keep warm. I brought over Cleo’s pink princess bed so he could have a nice cushion to lay on. He was either in our arms or over the vent in his bed. He had lost the ability to move more than his head and shoulders.

Two days ago Cindy and I began to take turns holding him nonstop until we went to bed. We knew his time was growing short and did not want him to be alone on the floor if called to cross the bridge. When it was bedtime, he was placed in the princess bed and covered with a towel to help keep him warm.

Last night I felt in my soul that it would be his last night with us, so I put him in his bed over the heating vent, covered him up with a warm towel and then laid on the floor beside him. Together we watched the fishies on YouTube aquarium videos.

Today, on the Lord’s day, his life expired at 1:35pm. I was holding him in my arms when I felt his little body began to give out. Cindy stood by my side as we spoke comforting words during his passing. His fragile little body quickly contorted, then relaxed and became limp. I watched as the light left his eyes.

It was an honor beyond the words I am capable of offering that Peanut chose to cross over in my arms. He fought as long as he could but his body just didn’t have any more left. He was beyond strong and his will to hold on was immense. I held him well beyond his expiration and continued talking to him just in case he hadn’t made it all the way across yet. His tiny body was light as a feather, but the weight of the loss I felt was immeasurable.

I’ve never directly experienced loss like I have today. I’d rather go through the last 3 years all over again than what I experienced in the last 3 days over the loss of an innocent, precious soul.

The difference in handling my pain and handling the pain of Peanut is that deep down, I feel as though mine is somehow deserved -that, I can manage, not the suffering of an innocent creature.

Holding Peanut while in his death throes will be burned into my mind for the rest of my life as will the loss of his presence in my lap when I visit the family. I feel as though life will never be the same without him. God’s speed boy.