Max, Maxie, the little Princess, Miss Maxie .... mom's little girl. I remember the day my brother Robert brought you home for me in late May of 1984. I remember how Pooh immediately began cleaning you and wouldn't let anyone take you away. You were "his" little sibling from then on. Dr. Krug said you were a healthy part Persian boy and I named you Max. Well, months later when it came time to neuter you they shaved away your long hair to find nothing to neuter. It was then they realized you were a girl. So, off came the brown leather collar and on went the pink patent leather one with pink rhinestones. You wore that same collar for the rest of your life. It was amazing that it never fell apart. I keep it with your ashes.|
You were a beautiful girl, stubborn to a fault and loving. Grace was not your middle name - you couldn't jump onto the sofa without falling over - but you were always there. You tried and tried to follow Pooh around the house, but he could jump very high, and you, well....
You were heaven sent for Pooh - you filled the void in his heart left when Ti passed away. He could clean you and teach you just like Ti had taught him years before. You followed him everywhere, cleaned the top of his head and curled up with him for naps. When he wanted to get away from you he would jump up on top of the refrigerator . I remember you studying the situation for a long time before you figured out that you could go from the kitchen table chair to the breakfast bar stool, walk the countertop (where you knew you were not to be!) around the whole kitchen, up on top of the countertop microwave and then could jump the last distance to the top of the fridge. After that he moved to the top of the curio cabinet in the entry hall. There was nothing for you to climb up to it so he felt safe. Well, until the day you tried to jump down to it from the second floor hall railing in that two story entry. You almost killed yourself then. I still remember the loud thunk when you hit the marble floor. You never tried that one again!
When Angus came along you had a new bestest buddy in the world (even though he was a d*g). You absolutely adored him. When he passed you were very angry with me. When Diarmid came home you were Ok to him, but were still very mad and would growl and hiss at me for weeks. Then one day you learned to love Diarmid like Angus and you finally forgave me. The rest of your years you and Diarmid were always together.
The house wasn't the same without you hiding under furniture and tripping Diarmid when he ran around. My feet are much colder without you snuggling on them. Michael & Padraig don't trip the dogs when they play, they tend to just sit and watch. Padraig likes to curl up around my neck on the back of the sofa and Michael is a lap cat. MacTavish is my foot warmer now. Alexander is now with you at the Bridge so Michael has had to learn to share the lap with new Westie Hamish. Padraig, well - he's flexible.
I think Pooh sent me Michael and you sent Padraig. Michael is a puker like Pooh (eats too much too fast then drinks lots of water - never a good combination) and loves to talk like he did. Padriag is like you, he loves to eat, rarely puks and loves to be brushed. You are missed my beautiful girl. I know that you are once again playing with your Angus and Pooh, have met younger brothers Diarmid and Alexander and older brother Ti and the cousins and friends at the bridge.
Behave my girl....until we meet again, love Mom.