| Peaches-and-Cream was born in a doghouse in 1987. I think we got him from the Spencers, one of whom was one of Corey's teachers at school. He was born with a bobbed tail because his father was a Manx--tailless--and his mother was not. For the majority of my childhood, he tended to avoid me--probably because, as I'm told, I disjointed his hind leg when I was two years old and Dad had to fix it--but we still had excellent games. One was to dangle a very long piece of yarn from the hall above the foyer while he was in the foyer, so he'd jump up off the floor to get it. Another one was to run in circles around the house (which was roughly O-shaped) trailing yarn for him to chase. There was also dress-up, which he was not pleased by, but he was a patient cat who did not get overly violent in the face of humiliation. Frequently, I locked him in my room at night so he'd wake me up very early as a sort of primitive alarm clock. Peaches would never come into my room of his own accord because of, um, me, and Kari refused to let me pet him if he was in her room. While we were eating, he'd come over and put his paws on my lap to ask for food, and if I didn't give him any--or if no one gave him any--he stalked off about five feet away and sat with his back to us, his ears back. He loved to lay out and sun in the middle of the street at our old house, and walking slowly out of the way of any cars that would approach. He also loved to sleep tucked up in the windows when they were opened. He never responded to "Peaches," but only acknowledged "Kitty!" Not that he came when you called "Kitty," he just let you know that he knew you had called him. Some of his nicknames were "Loaf of Bread," for the way he'd tuck his paws up and sleep, "The King," because he just. . . was, "Meow Mix," "Puddinghead," (don't ask) "Peachie" or "Peachy boy," as in, "That bad Peachy-boy." When we moved, he disapproved of the new house and sulked around in a panic for days. He started sleeping in my room, however, and for the next four years, I got used to waking up with him curled up on my bed. When I broke my arm, he hardly ever left the room. He liked to eat Animal Crackers, ice cream, and any kind of meat available. He hated having bows put on him, which we did every Christmas just to be festive. He also never played if he thought anyone was watching him, but he was really cute when he pounced on stuff. He was a big cat, too, a nice size that you could really pet and love on. Towards the end, he couldn't really take care of himself anymore, and I kept him inside as much as possible, picking him up when he wanted up on a surface or down off of one so he wouldn't have to do it, and he was very affectionate, following me around everywhere if we were both outside at the same time. He died on November 10th and is buried down off of our Ravine Path. |
| May 1987--November 2001
When Peaches died the rising tide of emotion swept me away Now ebb and flow Why did he go? My eyes are dry When did I cry? But I miss him all the same. |