The other day we received an online donation for a memorial brick in Cherny’s Garden for a cat named Peaches. This was followed shortly by email about Peaches and a photo.
The letter was so touching that I wanted to share it with other cat lovers. Here, with permission of Tom, is the letter and photo.
Dear Friends at Tabby’s Place
We lost our Peaches earlier this week. She was a feral cat born in the back yard. The only one we could catch. We soon adopted her. She was a small ginger tabby with short legs and had the sweetest disposition of any cat ever. We called her kitty-bitty because she was so small.
She liked to lie outside in the flower bed or on the lawn furniture. Her favorite place though was at the end of the couch.
She loved to have her back scratched, she would come over to you and push her head under your hand until you gave her a good scratch.
She purred all the time; when she was happy or scared or anything in between. Even when she was in pain at the end of her life she would purr loudly when someone came near.
She would sit outside under the street light at night and try to catch the bugs.
She would always pull up the rug in the living room when ever she came in. Then she would roll over and play with her tail
If we left a treat in her food bowl she would take it out of the bowl and eat it on the floor.
She was afraid of every sound; any noise would make her jump.
She had the softest meow, only a squeak really.
She did not respond to catnip but she loved to chase the laser pointer.
She did not like to sit in laps but she did like to perch on people with just her paws and her chin.
She hated the cat carrier but she was never much trouble at the vet.
Mostly she was a good friend for ten years. She left us far too soon. We did all we could to save her but in the end we had to let her go.
Everyone that knew her remarked how sweet she was.
Many folks don’t understand how a little feral ginger tabby cat can affect someone so deeply but she touched my life in a most significant way. My life is a little less happy now that she is gone but it is immeasurably richer in having known her. I will miss her.
I’m sure you folks at Tabby’s Place know what I mean.
Please place another brick in your walkway for Peaches. ( I have already put the inscription information and donation via the web site)
Place it near Lucifer if there is room. Please continue your good work in giving a home and care to those cats that were not has fortunate as Peaches was. She would have liked that I think.
Sincerely,
Tom Jones
There’s really nothing I can add.

Wow. I’m choked up. RIP Peaches. God Bless, Tom!
I’m so sorry for your loss :’( Rest in Peace Peaches. You have chosen a very beautiful way to remember your kitty and all of us who walk by will think of her too. With the brick donation, you are not only keeping the memory of her alive, you are also helping the Tabby’s Place kitties, thank you and God bless!
Peaches is beautiful. I’m so sorry for your loss.
Tom, sincere condolences on the loss of your sweet Peaches. You wrote a lovely and touching tribute to a wonderful friend - thank you so much for sharing with us. Clearly, you were both very, very fortunate to have found each other in this life and said it beautifully: “My life is a little less happy now that she is gone but it is immeasurably richer in having known her.” So true. God Bless!
Tom, my heartfelt condolences for your loss and your pain. Peaches chose a perfect home and it is obvious that you gave each other immeasurable joy — which will last forever. I think cats like this come to us for a reason! I’m sure you understand that, as does everyone at Tabby’s Place. Thank you for turning your personal pain into a living memorial not only for Peaches, but to help the other cats who are fortunate enough to call Tabby’s Place home. God bless!
Tom what a wonderful tribute to your Peaches, may she rest in peace,although she is physically gone, remember you will never truly be apart for she will always be walking beside you in spirit and love. She will live forever in the hearts of all who see her tribute on the memorial walkway.
Tom, what you wrote makes me miss Peaches very much–and I didn’t even have the pleasure of meeting her in person. But something tells me Peaches is still right at the end of the couch in her favorite place. Even if you can’t see her she’s there, waiting for and watching over you.