This will be one of the most difficult post to write. Who knows, this might help me root through some of the deep, sad emotions that I am going through. As many of you know, last June the vet called with the results of a biopsy on Max's gums. To both Andi and my dismay, the prognosis was what we feared the most, aggressive carcinoma. Because of the location of where the cancer was growing, the chances of it spreading to other lymphnodes was high. No viable options for surgery, nor is there medicine that could reverse it. The vet gave us a short amount of time, and could make no guarantees about quality of life or length. The only option was that we would continue simply with our own promise to Max for two things, that he would be taken care of, and that there would be no pain.
For the most part, Max seemed to be alright. He talked, a lot. He always talked a lot. He played with Theo, his partner in life. He dined on a combination of wet food and canned tuna, his favorite. In the morning, he would come down with us usually on the shoulder of Andi, to watch the morning news and prepared for first nap. He greeted us at the door when we arrived home in the evening, usually to let us know that his food dish is ready to be filled. Every night, he would walk up the stairs with us, climb on the bed and would wait for me to pull my arm out from under the covers and he lays on it, purring. I pet him until I fall asleep. The second half of the night he comes over to Andi's side and wakes her up to put her arm out so he can be the "little spoon" with her for the remainder of the evening. I've dreaded this time when these seemingly normal actions would become less and less normal, when the time came when he doesn't climb up those stairs with us, or even worse, when he's not sitting patiently at the front door waiting for us to arrive home.
Max, I have only known you a short amount of time, 4 of your 14 years. But, you made an everlasting impression on me. You never really acted like a cat, your personality wouldn't allow it. Anytime you found yourself reverting back to your animal nature, you shook it off and reminded yourself how much better you were than to act, "cat-like." But there was one animal characteristic you couldn't shake, your unconditional love for both Andi and myself. I think that's why I love animals so much. It's that dedication and imprinting that occurs that creates this bond that never breaks. Max, our bond is unwavering and unbreakable.
Sleep now, Max. You're safe. And home. And you are loved dearly. I'm going to miss you and never forget you. We both love you, kitty.
