This is the 2nd part of Max's Story which I think, on a website about her son's, needs to be told. Next week the boys will be back with their moans, groans, thoughts and diary.
...continued
Shortly afterwards, Max got pregnant but that did not seem to faze her for a moment. She took her pregnancy in her stride. It’s funny; I guessed she was having 6 kittens, probably through the knowledge that Max never did things by halves. Her condition never stopped her for a moment she still hunted frequently, if not more often, and brought us back her catches. She searched for somewhere to have her kittens, you could tell as she poked her nose in all the crevices that she was searching for the perfect place. She came up with a small locker located in quite a busy part of the house but that was Max inside out – a trusting soul perhaps too much so. On Good Friday (Max had a thing for Friday’s especially when it came to bearing kittens) Morgan was born a month early alongside his 5 siblings who sadly did not make it. Some people said Max was a bad mother, this an unfounded claim as all the babies were very weak at birth and thus the odds of their survival in any conditions would have been low. In fact Max should be a celebrated mum for even though her bond with the surviving kitten, Morgan, was not strong she later developed a very strong, if not sometimes amusing, bond with her only son and though used to leave him for periods of time he was left in good faith that he was protected. Her premature labour was put down by the vet to a virus.
Time passed and Morgan grew and it became apparent soon enough that so would Max’s tummy. The rights or wrongs of Max being again pregnant slipped into the background as once again she bloomed beautifully and began searching for her nest. We helped her decide the best place for her to give birth and Morgan left. The 16th July 2004 arrived and so did six healthy kittens. That morning Max jumped on my bed ‘telling’ me they were on the way. She nursed and nurtured them through their kittenhood, the proud mother she was. Her own health though was at times poor and after 5 of her kittens had left to make their own way in the world she was quickly spayed. Scooby stayed behind to keep his mum company. I truly believed in my heart, at this point, that it was like a new beginning for her. She quickly gained weight (she had been unhealthily thin before) and looked stunning. She became lively and we became closer. Towards the end was the time we really got to know what Max was like instead of what she was like as a mother. She was so funny and affectionate, her bright eyes glowed and she lived for herself, for the moment. To say she was a ‘normal’ cat, I feel is selling her short. She wasn’t. She had her own personality, her own mind and she was beautiful. People often comment how all cats look the same. This could not be further from the truth. Scooby, for example, has all the same markings as Max but you can look at his face and know he is not. Max somehow looked older than Scooby, even when they were the same size; there was something that you couldn’t put your finger on that distinguished them.
Slipping into May, Max took her place every night in the room I shared with Kim. Sometimes she would summon me in the early hours of the morning to let her go out. It became a nightly routine except that night when she wanted to leave just before I went to bed. Dutifully I let her and how I wish that she had stayed. For that finishes her story and I return to where I started; two years one week ago, sitting next to my darling’s shell in a bright porch on a sunny day in May. Except she was not my darling anymore, she was my angel up in heaven with Minnie and her babies.
I never wanted this to be a sad entry; there is enough sadness in this world as it is. I wanted to celebrate her full, special, albeit short, life and to make sure she is remembered in the way she deserves. Some beings leave this life in such a way that no matter how long they are gone, they are never forgotten. I want to make sure Max is one of those because, as did her babies and Minnie, they left paw prints on mine, and many other people’s heart.
Like before, if anyone who knew Max has memories of her, I would love to hear them. Please leave them below in the "comment" bit. Otherwise feel free if you just want to say something also to use the "comment" bit :-)
