Peach was still a little kitten when I started taking her back and forth to college with me, a two-plus hour one-way trip. Neither of us liked the drive, but she was a great little traveler, and when we got to my apartment, she owned the place. I tried to make it nice for her when I was at class during the day, but it was clear she missed me every day when I came home. She was so excited that she'd call me as soon as she recognized me walking down the hall. I still have no idea how she could tell it was me, but she often knew even when I was at the very end of the hall. She'd bunt the door as I unlocked it and would come rushing out into the hall to greet me. Her funny short, thick tail would be bent forward over her back and flickering, as it always would when she was especially happy. Peach would flop on her side and expect immediate petting. I tried to never disappoint her. She was always the brightest part of my day.

Just the two of us living in that apartment for a time, we grew very close. We ate together, slept together, played, and relaxed. And when I was stressed, anxious, depressed, unable to sleep, or unwell, Peach was there with me. We grew up together, and she grew old with me. We were together as often as we could be and were both happiest that way. She was my baby, my best friend, and the best medicine. I will always. love her. Marnie, GAPs client​