May 7, 2008 – I looked through my pictures and searched for all the one’s with Peabody in them.
I cried often today as well as slept to calm myself down. I’ve sought comfort in our eldest cat, Tiger.
My father came home for lunch and we looked at digital photos he took of him.
I would catch glimpse of the atrium and think of Peabody, but realize he was gone.
I decided to make a memorial page to him. I wrote a summary of his life. I miss him.
May 8, 2008 – I spent all night working on the page and it is almost finished. I slept half the day away, cuddling onto Tiger.
I did my chores and often reminded myself how Peabody was gone. When dusting, I couldn’t really put my mind into the work. Peabody would usually be in there. I would look at him, hug him and try not to bother him while dusting. He wasn’t there today.
Another time I passed by the windowed doors that led to the backyard. The temperature read in the 80s. I thought of how it would have been a nice day for Peabody to have been in the atrium.
When night came, my mother and I watch a few televisions shows. I kept looking towards the bed, a habit I always had, to look at Peabody. I knew he wasn’t on the bed, but I just kept looking.
May 9, 2008 – I spent all night finishing up the page again. Due to that I slept most of the day.
Around three in the afternoon I was half asleep. I was dreaming. I had entered my bedroom and it was dark indicating it was night time. At the end corner of my bed farthest from the door rested Peabody. He was in the position where his legs were curled under him and he was looking forward. I thought, I must be seeing things again. I had to make sure, so I reached to touch him. I felt soft fur instead of my bed’s top cover. I petted him. Then I heard purring however. I knew it was all a dream. I woke up. I was petting Tiger.
It… really distressed me. I jerked up and pulled away from him. If he hadn’t started purring… I could have savored that dream. Feeling the fur, my mind made it feel more like Peabody’s softness rather than Tiger’s. If he hadn’t purred I could have finished the dream without a cruel realization. The past few days I sought comfort in Tiger’s purring because it lulled my mind and caused me to stop thinking… today I wish he hadn’t purred.
I had only seen him for a second. I had touched him only for a moment… having it cut short upsets me… but just to have that makes me a bit more at ease. He looked content. He looked like he usually did. Hopefully it means he remembers me. Hopefully it means he decided to visit me at least in my dreams one last time before his visage left the world completely. Hopeful words from a pessimist such as me… but I loved him… I love him.
Later on my parents came home and we went out to dinner. When we entered the driveway I forgot a moment and thought of going to my parents’ room to see my cat like I always do when we’ve finished our Friday night dinners. I remembered again just as quickly though.
May 10, 2008 – During the night into the ungodly hours I thought of Peabody as a kitten and funny little things he did as he became older. Thoughts turned to mortality and loneliness.
After managing to finally fall asleep I awoke some hours later to go on a trip with my parents. When we came back I thought of going to my parents’ room to snuggle with my cat and take a nap due to a headache. It couldn’t happen though.
Later on my mom and I did our usual ritual of watching some shows. When it was over, I briefly thought of getting Peabody’s medicine ready, but remembered again. When I was in the kitchen I picked up the yellow handled dropper we used to give him his medicine these passed months and put it away in a drawer.
May 11, 2008 – I had another dream of Peabody. It made my day a lot lighter compared to the previous. There was more smiling when I thought of him.
In the dream we were back in the SS house. I was in my mother’s bathroom. Peabody was playing around on the floor in there. I was sitting on the ledge of the bathroom. I knew in that dream I was the only one who could see him. Despite that, I wasn’t certain enough. He was darting around my mom’s legs. She didn’t seem to notice him at all. I meant to ask her if she saw him. Instead I just watched appreciatively.
I was acting like a kitten again. He was batting at everything and chasing things I couldn’t see. Eventually he made it into the tub, where Cleo and Mokki, my mom’s two Himalayans, were relaxing in… likely for the coolness. Cleo hissed like mad when he approached her though. It didn’t surprise or bother me though. I had a feeling, she saw him, but was spooked because he was a spirit. No quarrel occurred. Still, I looked to my mom, did she notice? I know she likely saw Cleo react, but did she see Peabody like I did?
The dream continued on into something else after that. Waking up to find his appearance in it hadn’t been interrupted seemed to have made a great deal of difference. I wasn’t sad. I saw him. He acted young and vibrant like his first year with us growing up. I would think of that vision through the day and it just made me smile. I relayed it to my parents when we went out to get things for my mother as presents on Mother’s Day. My dad told me, the day right before he really felt sick, he was playing still. He would play with the covers when my dad fixed his bed in the morning. He would chase the sheets and let them be piled over them. Dad couldn’t finish making the bed until he fished Peabody out from under the covers. Admittedly, I only saw Peabody doing those antics once in this year. My parents are early risers and my dad is definitely diurnal while I am nocturnal instead.
Still, it didn’t make me sad. I felt a lot more peaceful again. My heart didn’t hurt and while usually when writing these entries I’d start crying… I only felt my eyes prickle for a moment a few times off and on during this. My chest isn’t tight like it has been the past few days. There is just… a longing. I miss him still, but I feel more… “certain” now. I think he is very happy now… and while I still am leery of hopefulness without definitive proof… I think he misses me and wanted me to know he is okay.
Peabody will likely always be a most special cat to me. It isn’t just because he was my first pet, though. It isn’t because he was “mine alone”. I looked at the dates of his birth and death. I was remembering times together and then I noticed something. I realized after a while that Peabody existed all through my hard times in this short life I have lived thus far. Sure, some would say my childhood was emotionally and/or mentally traumatic, but my adolescence is what I ever tend to look at when I think of â€œbad timesâ€.
I got Peabody right before those times came. It was the summer of 1998. I had yet to turn twelve that year as well as start sixth grade.
My depression started to show when I was nearing the end of my sixth grade career. Many troublesome times occurred, but what stuck out to me most was… He had been there during all those times. I had him during my ups and downs. After a rough day with kids at school, he would be home on my return.
He… had even been there when I tried committing suicide. After I had drunk a cocktail of drugs, which in all irony were supposed to help me, sent a â€œwillâ€ to Kyle, said â€œgoodbyeâ€ to my parents by giving them both hugs and kisses goodnight as well as that I loved them… I had retreated to my room, picked up Peabody and wanted to fall into my drug induced coma with him sleeping peacefully on top of my stomach.
Through all of my annoying adolescence… he was there. He saw my first signs of breaking. He saw my tears long before I didnâ€™t care about others seeing them. He was my comfort even if he hadnâ€™t realized he was. Then when all that passed and my life slowly became calm, he slowly went as well.
Iâ€™m not a very religious person, but if God is how the bible and people of Christianity see Him… perhaps, Peabody was only meant to help me through those rough times. Then… when I began to get better… God decided to take him.
If this had happened back during my depressions I wonder just how badly I would have taken it. I donâ€™t know if I would have killed myself over Peabody if he had passed away back then… but I likely would have become quite â€œcrazierâ€ than I was at the time. The stress and emotions on top of the escalated ones I dealt with already… I wouldnâ€™t be surprised if I had a complete breakdown of no return.
I sort of feel sorry for God. Looking at it, most people consider Him when they fall on desperate times or when death occurs. Sure, there are Christians who think of Him all the time, those who go to church and such… Then there are people like me or people who go beyond me as well as full blown Christians to other places. (Not that place, you dolt.) People who do not believe in God will sometimes pray to them when desperation comes.
I donâ€™t know if God exists really. Well, no one knows for sure, hence faith… But it is more along the lines of… I looked into religions so long… all logic points to any of them being right and any of them being wrong. All religions could be right, partially right, partially wrong or completely wrong.
Back when Peabody was in his worse moments I often asked my mom to pray for him, since she is the one most certain when it comes to religion in this family. She reads her bible, attends church, prays every morning and is very spiritual.
I, on the other hand, am more certain that anything is possible. Therefore, I cannot really choose a religion nor can I spurn all of them. I donâ€™t know if it were prayers I did on those nights… but I did think and address the unknown.
â€œTo whatever is out there and is listening.â€
I told my mom, I think there is possibility of there being a greater power, I just donâ€™t intend to pin point it to a group that is mortal and not certain. She understood that and accepted it. Apparently I am simply spiritual.
So, yes… on those nights I thought things that one might be called praying. I thought of the things I was grateful for. I thought of my hopes. I hoped things would go on as well as they have been the past few years. I had felt more at peace than I ever had in my whole life, I believe.
I hoped our home, pets, friends and family were all doing well. I hoped nothing terrible befell any of the listed. I hoped we stay fortunate by always having a home over our heads, food to eat, clothes to wear and our health. I hoped for many things. I might have asked… â€œPlease, if possible…â€
I knew not to expect though. Things will always happen. Change always occurs… but I feel in this time of my life… it isnâ€™t bad to hope at least. When younger I am not certain if I even tried hoping things. Now I do.
My greatest hopes this last winter and spring were fulfilled. A part of me wonders… did I become too secure with how Peabody was doing that I stopped hoping for him? Other times, I think… he just had to go. He lived as long as he could and as much as I could hope for the best… sometimes â€œlife happensâ€.
All in all though… I simply think more came to light when it comes to my reaction to Peabodyâ€™s departure. With how things were going, I thought of responses people who wouldnâ€™t understand would say.
â€œIt was just a cat.â€
I know he was more than just a cat though. Even if he didnâ€™t understand, he saw facets of me long before anyone else did.
â€œInstead of a pet you act like he was your child!â€
He was though. I adopted him. I took care of him. I watched him grow up. I would run to his rescue whenever trouble might befall him. I was his protector and guardian. I saw him at his best, his worst and into his death. I loved him. I would call him my baby when younger. I playfully called him my parentsâ€™ â€œgrandcatâ€ and they were his grandparents. Therefore, yes… I think of him like a son of sorts.
What can be said? He impacted my life more than I had even realized until now.