RIP Maxwell

My furbaby died last Saturday. If you’ve been reading the blog for a while, you probably know who Max is/was. This is him.

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One day a long time ago, a cat that belonged to a friend of mine had kittens. We saw these kittens when they were a few days old if I remember correctly.

They weren’t really of petting/holding age yet, but I do remember kneeling next to them to inform them how adorable they were. One of them broke from their little kitten group and started crawling toward me.

I didn’t think anything of it until a couple of months later, my friend brought me that kitten in a shoebox.

I did not request said kitten delivery, but I took it, nonetheless. I thought he could be my daughter’s cat.

That didn’t work out because she was a toddler and her tendency to carry him around by his head may have resulted in a lack of interest in wanting to be her cat.

So, he became mine.

It’s amazing just how much of my life involved him, my routines. Part of me still expects him to show up at certain times or whenever I do certain things.

I sit at the kitchen counter. He’s supposed to sit on the stool next to me and beg for my food.

I sit on the floor in my closet to put on my shoes. He’s supposed to come in and walk around like he just casually showed up, even though he’s there for a hug.

I go to bed. He’s supposed to sing his cat song and bring me his toy mouse.

I work at my desk. He’s supposed to curl up underneath.

But he doesn’t do that anymore, because he’s gone.

And I feel selfish for wanting these things because he was sick for two long years. I also feel guilty because if I had taken him to the vet a day or two sooner, he might’ve lived a little bit longer.

I’m looking forward to the day that my memories of him are fond and not just thoughts that make my heart sit heavier in my chest. I want to stop having to remind myself that he’s not coming back, that I am minus one furry shadow.

I am feeling a bit better about the whole thing, not perfect, but better. I have our other cat, Sneaker, to sort of keep me company.

As far as the future goes, I don’t plan to seek out another cat. That usually isn’t how we end up with pets. If I get another cat, it will probably be the one that shows up in my yard or some other delivery method, courtesy of the universe. Maybe I’ll get lucky and a reincarnation of Max will find me.

 

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Max

If you’ve been reading the blog for a while, you probably known about my cat, Max. He looks like this.

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Max isn’t doing so hot. He’s about 15 years old, which is the average lifespan of your average cat. A week or two ago, I had to take him to the vet. They diagnosed him with a uti and gave him like a gallon of antibiotics, which I’m still giving him. Seriously. It’s the never-ending bottle. And they gave him some valium, which I crush up and put in the antibiotics.

I have a plunger that looks like a syringe with no needle, and I have to basically shoot this stuff in his mouth. He doesn’t like it. I don’t like doing it. I’m pretty sure he isn’t happy with me.

The vet also ran some tests and found stage 4 kidney failure and hyperthyroidism. He then perscribed fluids and injections. I did the second iv (the first I had to do by myself) and injection last night, and it was awkward. I didn’t do it all of the way right. I forgot how to open the switch on the iv at first and I forgot to put pressure on the injection point, so the stuff just kind of squirted back out.

He was a good boy about it, and the process wasn’t too traumatic. He let me hold him after we finished, which made me simultaneously happy that he didn’t hate me for sticking him with needles and worried because it could mean he just doesn’t have any fight in him anymore.

I’m conflicted about the whole medication thing. I don’t know whether I’m helping him feel slightly better or whether I’m prolonging his suffering. He hasn’t been eating as well the last 5 or 6 days and he just keeps getting skinnier.

I wish I could ask him what he wants. That would make me feel infinitely better. I also hope he knows that I’m trying to help him. I don’t want him to think I’m punishing him for something or just generally tormenting him.

I do know that unless he is writhing in pain and yowling, I don’t want to have him put down. I don’t have any problem with people who do that. I know sometimes it’s the best option. But if I don’t have to, I would rather he get what he may have left. I can’t take that away from him.

He doesn’t seem to be suffering too much. I know that he is, but outwardly, his demeanor, aside from being a little miffed at me, hasn’t changed too much, so we have that, for now.

I realize there are much bigger problems in the world than my silly, old cat, but in my insignificant corner of the world, he is very important people.

I am alive

I swear I am. I have no movie post this week, mostly because I have had no time to watch a movie. Isn’t that horrible? I think it is. We’ve been moving our junk to the new place, and the amount of it is overwhelming. I don’t understand how we fit it all in that tiny house.

The new house is bigger, thank God. Living somewhere new after so long (10 years) feels very awkward. The distribution of space is different. Like, the bathroom cabinet, for example. The new one is bigger but it’s divided into so many drawers and tiny cabinets that I can’t fit as much in there.

I haven’t written squat in the last 5 days or so. Maybe a few paragraphs? And the character concept drawings? Honey, fuggettaboutit. I haven’t slapped down line 1. There has also been no tv watching, no working out, very little video gaming, and very little sitting down in general. My life has become an endless series of boxes. I grow weary of this business.

The house will be awesome once we settle in. I know this. And I’ll get back to my regularly scheduled shenanigans soon enough. Blog attendance will be sporadic for the next week or two.

As for Max, he has already found a new sun beam. His work is done.

moo man

negative animals

I was playing around with the negative effect on my phone camera and decided to harrass our pets for a while. I think these actually look pretty cool. I apologize for the blurry/haziness in some spots. I think the camera on my phone is not feeling well.

Here’s a normal picture of Max first so we can get a frame of reference.

normal moo

His blacks are white and his whites are black. It’s like the anti-Max. I like how blue his eyes look.

Max

This next one is my favorite of the set.

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Next up, we have Zoe the dog. Yes, she has cataracts. She’s an old girl. It’s to be expected.

Zoe the dog

Sneaker did not participate willingly. My daughter wanted me to note that she is not strangling the cat.

Sneaker

 

Gratuitous Moo

kitties

Things Believed by Max the Cat (right)

The dog has wronged him in some vile, unforgivable way, and she absolutely must be smacked directly in the face at every opportunity.

Midnight, every night is the perfect time to sing the song of his people as loud as he can.

Every time is snuggle time, unless you happen to be the dog. And if a person resists snuggle time, persistence is the key.

No matter what is in the can being opened in the kitchen, the contents belong to him. He would also like to receive them five minutes ago.

Paper is for sleeping on.

a quick update and a cat picture

Hey there! I’m taking care of some last-minute edits on the current work in progress, so that I can submit it to a contest on Monday. The task is requiring the majority of the mental energy I have at my disposal, so blogging isn’t too high on the priority list this week.

The edit is going pretty well. I haven’t found many mistakes. I’ve fixed some style issues, redundancies and the like. If I had my way, I’d keep it for a few more weeks, but I don’t have more weeks, and hence, I move forward with what I have.

I’ll probably be around more next week. Until then, please enjoy this picture of Max in which his feet look tiny. He is a very serious man. The picture is a little dark because I have to photograph him without the flash or he closes his eyes.

Moo baby