A Few days ago I received a dreaded phone call, that "something had happened to my cat, Maxx".
I defied the speed limit laws in order to get home to see him.
The most horrific sight met me under the side table in our living room.
My beloved Maxxipad (a loved child has many nick names), with his jaw all but broken off his face, bleeding and wheezing while breathing.
I went hysteric for a brief moment but my boyfriend snapped my back to reality and I scooped my sweet baby up and placed him on his favorite pink towel in his pet carrier.
Off to our local veterinarian we went.
The vet took an initial look and went "Oh my!" then went on to explain our options, to either rush him to Animal ER for skull x-rays and possible surgery to wire his jaw back in place. This only if there was no internal damage to his body. His lungs sounded very "gurgled".
My furry child was looking up at me with his beautiful brown eyes, wide open and in so much pain it absolutely broke my heart. Barely able to speak I was able to get out "please stop talking and put him down"!!!
At that very moment I took over all power and made the decision to allow my baby to go to sleep, one last time.
In my head I had already gone over the estimated fortune of attempting to save his life.
What kind of quality of life would Maxx have had? Being in a strange place, surrounded by strangers, once again in a cage, a cage very similar to the cage that we rescued him from not even 4 years prior. Painful recovery with having to be fed through a tube. Pain injections 2-3 times daily. Having to be secluded from his kitty brothers and doggie sisters and most of all, not being able to go outside in his favorite place, the backyard.
Again, all of this surged thru my head for only about 2 seconds, the choice was purely unselfish on my part.

In hindsight, I am plagued by guilt of the decision I made. And I WANT MY CAT BACK!!!!!
I held my face next to his and rubbed his soft, fat belly while he went to sleep. After his heart stopped we wrapped him in the pink blanket and brought him home.
My boys met us and wanted to know how he was, I said "dead" and started crying again, hysterically.

Billy and I discussed briefly having him cremated. I again made the executive decision, NO. I am still not able to look at the urn that is currently on our mantel, containing my beloved Cleo -- a Golden Retriever that we tragically lost in 2011. I do not feel like starting a collection of ashes in my home.
I placed his soft and limp body inside my pillowcase and we buried him in the backyard, next to the new shed. We will be creating a flower bed there next spring. I will carefully think of what type of flowers to honor his life with. For now, my statue of Saint Francis stands over Maxx.

To the person that so gravely injured my cat, I am glad I was able to see him, hold him, kiss him and say Good Bye, but I am not yet able to forgive you. We were unable to determine how Maxx's injuries came about but I pray to God that he was "nicked" by a speeding car. Anything else would be too hard to imagine.

The pain of losing a pet is so great, I am not going to try to compare it to any other loss one might endure but this can't be any less.
The ghost of Maxx haunts me every day. I see him sitting on his perch outside our living room window, I see him standing up against the patio door, asking to be let in.I feel his weight on my legs in bed at night. I see him lying in his favorite patio chair, in his kitty house under the deck........it hurts and is comforting all at once.
We saved his life from euthanasia in November of 2009, loved him until we lost him to the same last Wednesday.

MAXX - RIP - apx. 6 years old. A life too short but lived to the fullest. You will remain in my heart forever.