The Wrong Lilies

The Wrong Lilies

Thursday, April 26, 2018

Oh Max Oh Max

The first time we saw Max, he was a gold and white bundle peering fearfully through the openings of the carrier our daughter was holding, an early Christmas present and who turned out to be the best Christmas present we had ever been given.  Of course nothing was easy at first. Max had two years of history we would never know, our daughter having found him at a local animal shelter. Just before coming to us, Max had been neutered, given shots and other indignities, all by strangers. And here we were, more strangers. It took us a full two weeks to decide, Max and us, whether we wanted to live together. But somewhere during that time, we managed to say or do the right things and Max decided we were tolerable, and we began what became a long loving friendship.  Eventually there were three people in Max's home, and all others were shunned, in that if the doorbell rang or he saw a stranger come outside with us, he would hide and he had his sanctuaries planned in the house or in the garden.

Somehow when we know and love these creatures who share our lives, we think they will go on forever. We shared such fun with him. He disdained toys but would find a twig on the patio and lie on his back and toss it from paw to paw. When he wanted our attention, he would sit and look at us intensely and raise and wave his right paw. We learned that when we were giving him food, we could ask, "where's the paw?", and he would raise that right paw. As he got more praise and attention for raising his paw, that paw got higher and higher. Outside, he could show off by turning somersaults on the lawn or running fast across the lawn and turning and running back, or climbing up the redbud tree to survey his domain.

And then, and then, after being in our home and our hearts, one morning he had a seizure.  We took him to the vet immediately, they kept him for a couple of hours of observation, then called us to pick him up, along with a prescription.  The prescription was ready later, but in the meantime, the seizures kept occurring.  That evening the guys had an appointment and I stayed with Max, just holding him.  When he had a seizure, I would put him down, then afterwards pick him up again and put him on my shoulder.  I held him for hours.  When the guys got home, we elected to take him to an all-night vet, and came home and thought and thought.  All the seizures had the effect of changing his eyes somehow, and he was so frightened.  The next morning we called the vet, found he had continued having seizures, and we all three went to the vet, each of us held him, and then he went gently into the long sleep.

That was August of last year, and we are still mourning.  But we know that the way we can most honor Max is by finding another cat who needs a home.  Knowing Max taught us so much about what we need to do to make a kitty welcome.