Max 1984 - 2000

OK- When it was time to think of getting another cat I went to a shelter that was being forced out of their current location. They needed help placing their cats so I told them my tale of adopting Mugsie. They had me pegged in an instant. I was immediately grabbed by the elbow and whisked past all the adorable fluffy, bright eyed kittens and escorted into a solitary room. Five year old Max was sitting in what, for many years into the future, I would call “the meatloaf position.” (That is- displaying a perfect meatloaf/brick shaped body with legs and tail tucked under, out of sight.) There he sat on his bed with classical music piped in around him. He looked like he owned the place.

Max was a two time loser. He was originally brought to the shelter as a small kitten by a kindly person who “cat burgled” him from her neighbor after one too many signs of abuse. He was pathologically afraid of other cats and waited at the no-kill shelter for over a year before he was adopted by an elderly woman who wanted only one cat. He lived with her for 2 years before she died. Her family brought him back to the shelter and there he sat for another year…in his semi-solitary-classical-music confinement due to his fear of his own kind.

Clearly he was a favorite at the shelter and had the run of the place once all of the evil, scary, kittens were safely locked away. I’ll never forget the shelter owner trying to conceal her tears in his fur when she handed him over to me to bring him home.