Yamo Lina Peterson. Late 2006- July 29, 2024. ~18 years of good life .
I started this blog years ago with what I wanted to remember about him; I’ve literally been preparing for this for years but you can never know the loss until it’s here. Honestly, for as much as I was dreading that day, it’s been over three weeks and it’s more manageable than I imagined. Its surprising the thought patterns I had (“close the door”, “don’t put x on the floor”) that hourly remind me of him because I don’t have do that thing anymore . Every morning when Cora looks for him; every time I sit on the couch to eat, every time I lay down in bed. . All sting . Sometimes I think he’s still moving under my feet .
But wanted to take time to give honor to his life and big personality.
I got him halfway through my 2nd year at Carbondale . My landlord allowed cats and one of my youth group kids’ cat had kittens. I had always wanted one, even collected cat stuff as a kid, and I just decided to go for it. One of my best decisions ever. I went over and cuddled a bunch of grey kittens, they marked some nail polish on the claws of the one I picked out. I came back a month later to pick her up and they said, "I think that's the one" and I took her home. I had already decided on the name Yamo, based on a chant during a Cardinals 2006 Playoff game (NLDS, I believe) where one group was shouting "Ya" and another was shouting "Mo" in reference to Yadier Molina, the new catcher on the team. By the next season, he'd develop the moniker Yadi. I took her home and my roommates and I all fell in love. I wanted to take her everywhere; couldn’t get enough! A day or two in, she was sitting on my bed and rolled over and I saw something that made me say... she's not a she, she's a he! And, thus, I had a boy cat. With big paws, leading everyone to come to the conclusion that he was going to be a Big Boy! And, they were right.
That first semester was so sweet. He learned to sleep with me, at first near my face, then eventually in the crook of my legs. He'd play games with my pony-tail holders (he'd jump up on the bathroom sink and open the medicine cabinet because he knew I kept them there!) and a game where he'd try to jump on my bed from the area where my bed met the wall. I knew he was super smart; he learned to open almost shut doors pretty quickly (like he'd pull them towards himself). One night, I stayed home and had the apartment to myself and I decided to watch Casablanca for the first time. I remember being sad and Yamo literally didn't leave my chest for the entirety of the movie. I decided that night was when we bonded for real. There was another time later that I had the flu or something and he just knew I was sick and didn't leave my side. He HATEs when I'm sick and when I'm gone. After I'd go on a trip and leave him for awhile, I could always count on him attacking me when I got back; he'd be so mad at me.
Another night in college, we were sitting around downstairs and Yamo was upstairs. The windows were open and I had forgotten to block a loose screen. We see a grey ball of fluff fall from the sky. I don't know who was more scared- me or him.
He was an escape artist- would always try to run out the door. I knew his hiding places - behind the air conditioner in the apartment, in the bushes at my parents, I once found him in a neighbors basement window cutout at our apartment in UCity. He disappeared for long-ish periods of time twice that I can recall- once at my parents house; he was gone almost 24 hours. Disappeared one night, we looked frantically for him, gave up, and heard his meowing the following afternoon. Still want to ask him where he was. Another night at my Shaw apartment when I was having a game night/party, he just disappeared. He was gone for maybe 4 hours. I posted on NextDoor, Facebook, etc. And, eventually, he just meowed at the door and I let him back in. Where do he go???
He has always been my cuddle-bug. But on his terms. Everyone that met him pretty much hated him because if he wasn't in the mood to be pet, he'd bite you. And for a while, about once every two weeks, he'd attack me. I could always tell it was coming by his deep-throated meow/growl. He'd bite and slap and I'd have to shove him away with a pillow. Other times we'd get in slap fights. In UCity, Joy would get mad at him and chase him, saying "Be nice to my friend!" I think the more he's around people (i.e. not left alone all day), the less mean he is. He definitely mellowed in is older years .
His (and my) favorite was always bedtime. He used to meow and wait for me to go to bed because he wanted to cuddle. And the second I climb into bed, he'd immediately be on my chest. I pet his head hard and crush his ears (by the way, he hated when you try to poke his ears from behind, which I did just to bug him), which he loves. My absolute favorite thing he did is after I had been petting his heard hard for a while, I would lay my hand down near his nose, and he nosed under my had to get me to keep petting him. And when he's done being petted, he’d just jump down. He hates being picked up! But I did it anyway :). Eric Wells came over once and picked him up a couple times, lol. I'm still a little traumatized by that.
He got sick twice- once when I first started my job at Ameren and was living with my parents. I took him to the Vet ER one night and they kept him overnight and send me home with meds and a $1K bill. I had Oracle training that week and was leaving for Denver and I left my poor parents to give him his meds. My parents pretended to hate him, but Dad would sneak him treats, like bringing him home shrimp from buffets. He was also trying to teach him to wait for his treats on the counter before grabbing them. I think Dad taught him kisses too. He kissed for his life after that . Mom got him a Christmas present with catnip in that he unwrapped before it was time to unwrap them. I wish I had a video, as that was one of the funniest things I've ever seen. The second time he got sick, Carley was watching him. I got a phone call when I was sleeping in NYC that she was taking him to the ER. $1500 later, I got a cat that needed to go BACK on prescription food for urinary tract issues. Had I been there, I might have let him go. But I wouldn't have done that to Carley. And, I'm glad I didn't. He lived a good long 7 years after that.
I always told that cat he was super lucky to be adopted by a crocheter. His love of playing with and sucking of yarn was unparalleled. I couldn’t keep balls of yarn around the house or they would be unballed unceremoniously. If you’ve ever gotten a crocheted gift from me , chances are good Yamo helped by letting yarn go through his mouth.
An odd food choice of his was olive oil. He is especially fond of olive oil spray on popcorn. I tried to feed him the popcorn, but he was not interested. He licks the olive oil from the popcorn. A fun party trick was to spray the sides of a plastic bowl with olive oil and he would practically roll around in it.
He was always a protector, or at least pretended to be . In 2008 at our UCity apartment, he was the first to notice Sammy the Squirrel (RIP) who briefly lived behind our fridge. Yamo crouched in front of that fridge for HOURS, with that tail swishing, ready to pounce. We did lock him up for Sammy’s D-Day, or he would have certainly wound up in the live trap. Sammy, on the other hand, was too smart for it . 😂 I also found a half of mouse in his mouth at the Demun apartment. Never found the other half ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. His favorite spot in the Shaw apartment was atop the tall bookshelf. He wanted to watch over the situation.
Still can’t believe we all survived the flea episode. I brought them into the house from cat sitting for a friend. Wasn’t smart enough to give him flea meds. A few weeks later, I noticed him being mopey and in the bathtub a lot, which was inexplicably covered in black stuff . And my ankles were covered in bites. Finally put the pieces together. After a call to my landlord and a professional and a cleaning lady and a few nights at a friend’s house and a lot of salt and a LOT of tears, we made it through. Yamo got a luxury day at the spa.
I made a choice during Covid to get a kitten, hoping it would make him feel younger. And DizzyLou came into the picture. I wanted her to be grey too, but she wound up being fathered by a tabby milkman. Yamo stopped puking on the daily, which had been happening for at least a year. Surprisingly, he tolerated her well. They wrestled and goaded each other. He occasionally washes her face . He played with her toys. I think she kept him young. Tragically, she crossed the rainbow bridge in June, much much too soon.
I did get another 3 yo cat for a brief time, which didn't work out and the worst thing about her was that she wanted to sleep with me and then he didn't. I MISSED him during that season.
The last year of his life was the first year of Cora’s . For as feisty as he was , I never truly worried about her with him. Never wanting to be left out, he was always up in her business. From those first cuddly days in the recliner where she’d be on one side of the boopy and he’d snuggle up on the other , to on the floor with her as she was learning to crawl, they were always in each others business. They were in a constant territorial control of the other side of my bed . He would put up with her baby nonsense really well. She’s pull on his fur and ears (“gentle , gentle”) and splash in his water and of course eat his food. And they would frequently steal each other’s toys 😂. She only got bit once and she absolutely deserved it . I remember telling my counselor that I hoped he would get to meet her. When you get a cat when you are 23, you assume that cat will become a family cat. So I had always pictured Yamo with my kids . My life didn’t turn out the way I imagined at 23 it would but my dream of him getting to love on my baby did . Someday, she will have another kitty to love .
Yamo has lived in 7 places with me and been tolerated by around 13 of my roommates (17 if you include my family). He has been by my side through new jobs and new boyfriends and breakups and new apartments and been in the middle of so many parties . He was the most loyal cat to me , even if he was misunderstood by all my friends. He’d always greet me at the door and was the last thing I’d see each night before bed. He’s been described as a legend . He was my constant through my entire adulthood thus far, sitting by my side and on my lap (generally stealing my food) as I navigated each new adventure. And, being single makes the grief of this pet that much more lonely, as I alone hold most of these memories . I hope my love was enough for him . Making the decision at the end was so hard. But I got time to say goodbye. He lived a full , loud, yarn- filled life . He was a lucky cat. But I was also lucky to have found him, my Bambo boy. Til we meet again, Yams. 😘 🌈
