With tears, hope, and prayers, many of us who consider our pets as family members dread the day that comes all too soon.
Our cat or dog that has been part of the family for years is ill with little chance of recovery. That is when we must come face to face with what we have always known but ignored. They don’t live as long as we do.
That explains the heartache I am facing with Maximilian, my seven-year-old tiger cat.
His illness and loss of five pounds should have been expected. The veterinarian on the first visit after the kitten was rescued warned me that he had feline leukemia and with love and good care could possibly live to be six. At the time, six years was a long time and the good care included eight B-12 shots.
I will never know how the tiny two month old kitten got up on the back porch and onto a pile of ice and snow in January.
The first vet who came to the house confirmed it was not feral, had been handled by humans, and was a female. With the help of Blade readers, my kitten was named Posey. But when he sprouted body parts, what the vet called “late development,” the name was changed to Maximilian, or Max for short, in memory of Chef Max Korl, who not only was one of the best, if not the best chef known in Toledo. Besides, Chef Max was a cat lover who fed many strays from the back porch of his home on Broadway.