Farewell Max. You were a good kitty.

I hate goodbyes; especially when the are fraught with tragedy.

This afternoon Crazy Steve from down the street rang the doorbell incessantly. I really didn't want to talk to him so I ignored his constant ringing, but then he started pounding and ringing. I opened the door and he stood on his tiptoes and said "Your cat is dead" in a creepy whispery voice. :(

WHAT? My kitty who stays in the yard and plays with the kids and calls to me through the open window, or my other kitty that I would gladly give to the nearest animal shelter if I were a hair more calloused?
Of course it had to be the good kitty. He ran into the street and never made it back. The person who hit him never stopped. Shame on them, I hope they suffer through a serious case of jock itch as punishment.

The girls took it really well. Julia mentioned that it was good that he was a kitty and that he wasn't an 8 year old person, or he would have to have been baptized and done some repenting and been judged by God so he could go to heaven, but since he was just a kitty she was pretty sure he could just go and live with Jesus. Somehow Julia's whole thought process was comforting to her sister. Ava remarked that it was just a really sad thing that Max played in the road and got squished, but at least we still had one cat left.

I was the only one who cried. Maybe its because I am hormonal, or maybe it is because I had 7 cats die one after the other when I was a little girl.
Life's lessons don't always come gently and with warning.

Max, you were a good kitty. I 'm sorry your life was snuffed out before you time. We will meet again someday.