by Jessica Major
Max was 10 pounds of mutt cat, with ears too big for his body, and a heart, like most cats, wasn't all for us. I was only four years old when he came into my life, my parents bought him for me after my little sister was born. The first thing I have to say, is that I didn't even want Max, I wanted to beautiful white cat that is every little girl's dream to own. I still remember that cat, staring out at me, while my parents asked the salesperson if they could see the black kitten in the back. My dad immediately held out his hands for the little guy, and scratched his overlarge ears, he said "Lets get this one, he likes me," How wrong he was. But the kitten ended up coming home with us, and I left my dream cat behind.
We went to my grandparent's, I proudly carried my new kitten to the door, incredibly proud at how I could hold him right. But the only thing he did, was hide between the spot that separated my grandpa's leg and the arm of the chair. I lost my grandfather the next year, but Max stuck around.
Upon bringing Max home, we were under the impression that he was a girl, and I wanted to call "her" Maxine. But we found out he was a boy, and that was shortened to Max.
Max loved two things, sleeping, and catnip, whenever we got him catnip, he rolled around, looking stoned. It was our tradiation to get him catnip for christmas, he loves Christmas!
As for the sleeping part, he would curl up anywhere, the living room floor, the bathroom floor, on "his" chair, or my bed. He would spend the whole night with me, sometimes not a good thing, he took up almost the whole space.
He got sick two years before his death, we found him rolling at the end of the hall, he seemed to be having troubles going to the bathroom. He was taken to the vet the next morning, we were right, he was immediately operated on, but he didn't heal properly, and leaked for the rest of his life. So he was closed in the downstairs, a spot where the carpets weren't cared much about.
For two years he lived down there, annoying my dad as he had to work on the computer down there. He liked to go outside, and would meow untill he was let out, even it was wet and rainy. If it was, he would peek outside, but not go out, then, ten minutes later, he would want to be let out again. Another thing he liked to do was sit on the back of the chair, moving closer and closer untill you fell off, so he had the whole chair to himself.
Max got sick again, we realized he hadn't been eating. Another trip to the vet, and he was loaded up with medication to keep him going. But his heart wasn't in it. Over time, he got sicker and sicker, untill my mom confronted me with the news that we had to put him to sleep. This wasn't a big shock, he had been looking horrible for weeks now. His loud meow and lion purring had turned to a croak, all he did was sleep, and he no longer walked strait. That night, I called his name and he wobbled confidently towards me. I'll always remember that moment, he looked so determined, he just wanted to be near me.
The next morning, we hand-fed him, but he threw up later. It was so hard to see him like he was, so I left. Fifteen minutes later, my mom called me in, he was gone.
I was told later he died in my dad's arms, it's kind of ironic, the person he never had liked at all, was the person he spent his last moments with.
Max died before the vet had to kill him, it was Valentines Day. Part of me was relieved, he was a wreck, and clearly suffering, I had prayed the night before for his death. But it's so hard to let go. It's always harder to see the lifeless body of your lifelong companion lying in a box, than to see him alive and suffering. I cut of some of his hair and taped it into my diary, just to save a little piece of him.
It was almost dusk when we burried him, and it rained, almost as if he was crying with us. My dad chose the spot, a silent place behind a tree we had planted in out backyard. Even he cried, and he always hated Max. Now, two months later, I go out often, to the silent place, where a cross is now erected in his place, at the spot behind the cedar tree.
NOTE: Since he's been burried, that tree has suddenly grown nearly a foot, it's never been this tall. Coincidence?