God isn't in control of Kitty Heaven anymore.

[Rhydderch Hael]

Ten years ago, my sister fulfilled her childhold dream of getting a pet cat. Never mind the fact that she was a college freshman in a dorm where pets were not allowed: the little orange and white with the manx-like stance and stubby little tail was the dearest thing to her heart. And the nearest thing to her own personality: an attention-getter and crafty manipulator through the power of sheer cuteness.

Peanutbutter (one word) possessed a Garfield-like dominance of any situation, and nearly the same love for sleeping. He had two things Garfield didn't have though: genetically engineered super-strength and ruthless ambition to get his own way. And a short tail like that of a puppy dog.

Shut him in a bedroom so that the two other cats have a fair chance of finishing their food bowls? He'll open the door. No one gets between him and his dinner.

Place 8-pound lifting weights against a linen closet door so that he will not nestle on top of the towels? He'll roll them aside. No one gets between him and his naptime.

Put a cigarette in his mouth during a frat party, beckon others to see this only to have the cig fall out of his mouth? He'll gather it up between his paws and bogart it on his own.

Years and years as a college cat can't last forever. Eventually some of these folks actually graduate and move on with their lives. My sister? Married a dog lover. The cats' longtime caretaker? Married a dog lover. Falling to circumstance, Peanutbutter and the his two lifelong companions were in need of a home that would keep them together— they came to me.

Sleep in on weekends? He'll jump on the bed and claw your legs. No one gets between him and his breakfast.

Plan on sitting on the couch? He'll already be there, right in the middle. No one gets between him and his seat of power.

This past weekend, I had to send Peanutbutter to the emergency animal clinic. Diabetes and liver failure. For the past four days, I still put down three dishes of food for the two remaining cats, to assure them that the third plate would be used once more.

Today, I laid down only two plates. Hardest part was keeping the tears out of the food.

My sister came down for the end and said her goodbyes. Only solace I can take now is that Peanutbutter has firmly wrested control of the feline afterlife and decreed to all that they throw a toga party that will last through eternity.

Party on, Mr. Peanut.

[DeeBye]

It sucks when a pet dies. One of my childhood cats died of liver failure and it was pretty tough to watch. She shrank into nothingness over the course of a week and we had to take her to the vet to be put down. That final vet visit is harsh.

Condolences:(

[Tal]

Today, I laid down only two plates. Hardest part was keeping the tears out of the food.

My condolences to you Rhydderch, and to your family on your loss.

[Munkay]

As another pet lover and life long pet owner, I send my condolences. Losing a cat or a dog is an unnerving and rough time. Hope all the best to you and your sister.

Cheers,

Munk

[LochnarITB]

in RL

my heartfelt condolences - the pain of that last trip to the vet has kept me from getting another pet for the last 15+ years:(

[--Pete]

Hi,

Hardest part was keeping the tears out of the food.

And off my keyboard. My condolences on your loss.

--Pete

[Sabra]

Awww. I hope someone will write something 1/2 as nice about me when I move on. So sorry for your loss.

[Rhydderch Hael]

Thank you all for your understanding. Some of the things I'll remember of him are the little conversations we'd have.

(me dishing out some Friskies Salmon Dinner while he glowers from the floor)
"No funny business, Mister. Just put the plate on the floor, and nobody gets hurt. Except for the fish, of course. He goes in my tummy."

(I pick him up, and he looks every which way but at me)
"Hey! Where are the cameras, Mister?"
"There are no cameras around. What are you talking about?"
"But I look so cute right now! There have to be some paparazzi lurking around! Helloooo!"

(Sits on my lap and looks straight at me)
"Do I even have to remind you that I'm the superior being?"

"This is mine. This is mine. I don't even know what the hell this is, but it's mine!"


The hardest thing I see ahead is how Gizmo is going to fare for all these coming years without her beau. Peanutbutter and Gizmo have been together this entire time. I can't help but feel she's been robbed of him, and Gizmo is an emotionally—interesting—tabby.

My own cat Indy is here with her, but Indy's a world apart in personality, and the two girls don't exactly 'bond', not like how it was with Peanutbutter.

[Roland]

I know what it's like to lose a friend in a cat. You have my condolences. At least you got to say goodbye. There is much to be said for that. Take solace. Remember what you had, rather than holding onto what you don't.

[Artega]

Only in a cat would we find such behavior not only acceptable, but cute:)

My dog died of complications from diabetes after a long, bitter struggle, so I know how that feels. Imagine how the other two cats must feel; their dictator is gone, but what will they do without him?