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In early 1995, my husband Jimmy and I took in a lovable, affectionate, and very silly stray cat that we named Max. Max had been neutered, declawed, and abandoned. During a nasty ice storm, we decided to try to bring him inside. He wasn't too sure about things at first, but the first time he jumped up on the couch, and we didn't chase him off, he realized that it wasn't so bad after all. He pretty much took over the house, and had his mommy and daddy wrapped around his little claw. His favorite pastimes were napping, bird watching, napping, playing with mommy and daddy, napping, eating, and napping. On January 11, 2006, Max was diagnosed with cancer, which had spread from his spleen, into his lungs. There was no hope of recovery, so we had to make the hardest, but most love filled decision that any pet parent can make. We sent him across the rainbow bridge with the knowledge that he was loved, that he would be missed, but that he would see us again someday. The sound of Max's purr was sweeter than any music. I will hear it in my head until I hear it again in heaven. On January 13, 2006 I found a whisker on my desk. I'm taking it as a sign that Max wants me to know that he's okay. |