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30th January 2008
My Last Night With Max, Fat Cat Max
This is Max’s Last Night - My Last Night With Him
This is my (once, previously) fat cat Max’s last night, who is no longer fat, but nearly 17, hyperthyroid, liver disease-ridden, often sick, and rather bony to boot. At the moment, he’s sleeping peacefully tonight, under the living room light, on the red couch, in the blankets. Tomorrow at noon, is the dreaded doc’s visit. I’m going to post a picture where all three of my kitties were lined up sleeping, next to one another in the next day or so, but here’s another picture of him tonight by himself on the couch.
I hate this, I really hate this. If you read the posts below, you’ll know what I’m referencing and why. I feel guilty despite any ration any person or myself tries to emit. I just don’t like “electing” the end, or choosing the time, the place, the location, the how.
Trying to keep my other animals separate from him, carrying him out of my house afterwards, wondering how I’m going to face Misha, his brother, afterwards. It is important for me to not stress Max further by taking him in the car to the vet. He’s almost died twice on his last two car rides, hyperventilating, turning pure white in his mouth, and causing near accidents trying to comfort him.
I wonder if his brother, Misha, already knows - I tried to tell him last night. Wondering if St. Francis is okay with this?
I’m going to write an “Ode to Fat Cat Max” tomorrow night as personal therapy and post some funny old stories and pictures.
Say a prayer for both of the brothers, who I pray will handle the physical separation well. max and Misha have always been quite connected during difficulties or disappearances. I’ll tell those endearing stories tomorrow. Tonight, I have fuzzy furry time to spend with Max. Tears flow - Misha sits beside me as I write this wanting up on my shoulder and crying to be held.
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