Peaches

Last week (18th May) my oldest angora rabbit, Cadbury, passed away aged nine years of age. He had been operated on for cancer four years ago but had gone from strength to strength since even flirting with the doe in the cage next to him. Recently he developed a weakness in his hind legs which made it difficult to get up and this worsened to the point that he needed to be upended to get about. When he was at the stage of barely being able to get around (although still eating) I made up my mind to do something but the decision was taken out of my hands as he died one afternoon while I was away. Very peacefully by the look of it.

That was expected. But this afternoon when I came home with a friend to discover my lovely Peaches cat dead on the side of the road I went into a state of shock. Peaches who has always been a gently reserved cat with the loudest purr imaginable. The cat who loved playing with mice, who always wanted to sleep as far up the bed as possible so that she was the first face I saw in the morning. Peachy who, if I was upset, would stand up with her paws on my knee and look intently at me before reaching one arm across towards me as if to say "it's ok. I'm here".

If I went to collect the mail Peaches would rush towards me, arching up on her hind legs to butt my hand with her head or else rolling over in the gravel of the driveway to show off her lovely striped belly. She was invariably polite, always asking permission to jump up on my lap. Always ready to pose for the camera. And when minky blanket came to live here, Peachy bum was the first to take possession of it, wherever it happened to be. On top of the chair, on my bed, on the sofa. She'd be busy needling it to within an inch of its life.

Then there was Gypsy the little black cat she'd been raised with. Smaller than Peach but more dominant she would instigate rather vicious wrestling matches which would result in little ginger roaring and hissing before falling off the bed. The next minute they'd be cuddled up asleep in each others arms. Outside it was Peaches who was the boss and Gypsy would watch entranced as she played with a mouse or else they'd be playing chasey across the lawn.

Peach came to live with me in January 2005 at about three months of age. She brought me comfort at a terrible time and she has been doing so ever since. What a treasure of a cat and how she will be missed.