20/05/2026
This is proving, unsurprisingly, to be one of the most difficult posts to write.
Peanut and Crumble were obviously born to great things, having popped out, with their magnificent siblings, on New Year`s Day in 2014. They didn`t have an easy start, as their mum was very ill, and rejected the babies, who all needed hand-rearing. Another magnificent job by Yorkshire Cat Rescue! We fell in love with them on a visit to our YCR friends, and couldn`t wait to induct them into our family.
A few weeks later they drove through the night, arriving in time for breakfast. As we opened the carrier, they both tumbled out and started playing. The only real problem was restraining them for long enough to get their cloth caps and clogs off of them! After that, it was "full steam ahead".
And boy, could Peanut build up a head of steam! Sometimes he could be absolutely irrepressible: unfortunately that was usually when he was launching one of his random attacks on Crumble who, as some of you know, only has one defence - his enormous capacity for love (which didn`t actually help him at all).
Peanut (Nutpea, Nutkin, Panini) was totally committed to whatever he was doing, be it playing football with his beloved silver paper balls, thrashing the life out of his whack-a-mole type toy, weaving between our legs (especially coming downstairs) foraging for food, nuzzling us into next week or, latterly, spraying on every available surface in the house, which unfortunately once included me! He was the only cat who I failed to keep out of the hedgehog feeder, despite building in tunnels, bridges, tiger pits, and God-knows-what!
His unofficial title would have been The Pied Piper of Borehamwood, as he committed to single-handedly rid the entire area of rats. A few weeks ago he diligently emptied a whole nest over the road, and equally diligently tried to bring them all into the house.......
In later years his health compromises became more complex: he`d had digestive tract problems from a kitten, and later Inflammatory Bowel Disease, which would have deteriorated and brought about an uncomfortable and untimely demise. He also developed thyroid problems which, while controlled by medication, gave him an extraordinary appetite. How many people have to keep their food recycling bin in the microwave? Despite this, he was steadily losing weight, and looked more ferret than cat..........
Perhaps the most important thing to remember is that he took an immense delight in life. Always there to greet us at the door, nuzzling, purring and dribbling, sleeping curled up between my legs or pressed up hard behind my knees, making a play for any and every morsel that was dropped (or not dropped, he didn`t really care) threatening Crumble, bitching with Strudel, chewing all hell out of cardboard boxes before they were fit for habitation, killing small (and not so small) furry and feathery things - he was bursting with joie de vivre.
Going through his photos, I found a wonderful picture: half an hour before Gingy was put to sleep, Peanut lay down next to him, and rested his head on Gingy`s. Never done anything of the sort before........
On Saturday afternoon he took his final journey across the road. We had a call from Amanda, a stranger who was giving her son a driving lesson. While I must emphasise that it was not him who hit Peanut, this kind compassionate boy insisted on stopping to see if there was anything he could do to help, but it was too late. Judging by the injuries, he thankfully died immediately. Amanda phoned us, and we collected him (just over the road from our house). He`s now buried in the garden with Pickles, Gingy, Jellybean, Gideon, and all the little foster-babies who never made it.
