Remembering Max

Our boy Max was the love of my life. He came to us after my ancient Typo kitty went to play in the catnip fields in the sky after a wonderfully long life.

We walked into the shelter and looked at all the kitties, and there about the level of my knees was a medium hair tabby staring up at me. Our eyes locked and it was love at first sight. I knew I wanted him.

We brought him home and kept him secure in one room until he and my other kitty, Esther, could realize there was another kitty around.

Max was sweet, gentle, and a lover boy. He had the softest purr that you could barely even hear. And he had a crick at the tip of his tail. He made friends with all the kitties in the neighborhood, but wasn’t above a good scrap.

He got along quite well with Esther and later with Zoe when we just couldn’t resist taking our little tuxedo kitty home with us. But was really friends with the neighbor, an orange tabby named Sebastian. They would follow each other around. After we moved, he befriended the neighborhood bully, Sammy, and they followed each other around.

The one thing that drove us crazy was that he was a roamer and would wander blocks away into a mini farm, neighbors yards, and into a raccoon run on the other side of the fence. And when we moved, he wandered the neighborhood, often hanging out at the house of a man with five cats on the next block. When it was time to come in for the night, we often had to go out looking for him.

And he loved his treats. He had a habit of going over to the drawer where they were stored and just stared at us until we gave him some. And I think he may have had a few too many, because he was becoming quite rolly poly.

We unfortunately lost him to a car accident the third year we lived here. We cried and cried for weeks afterwards. And we still think of his sweet face and gentle ways and think of him playing in the catnip fields in the sky. Max, we love you.