Almost two years ago, I had to make that hard trip to the vet with my old boy, Oswald. He was a big black and white gentle giant who used to meet me at the door. He was the friendliest cat I have ever had. He had diabetes and developed kidney failure, so I had that tough choice to make.
When I was driving to the vet, I thought my heart would break. Coming back home without him in my arms, I sobbed the whole way. It took months before the pain subsided and wasn't a constant ache. Although I have two other female cats, I had Oswald for 17 years. He was very special to me. I was glad that neither of the other cats looked like him, because that would have been so tough.
Fast forward 20 months - a woman I work with and I went for lunch at a mall. There is a pet store where the Humane Society has animals up for adoption. We went in and looked at the cats. There was a black and white boy in there, smaller than Oswald, but very friendly. At the beginning of May, we did our calamari-at-the-mall routine, and stopped by the pet store. There were a few new cats in there, but the black and white boy was still in his cage. I said to my coworker that it was a shame - he was running out of time. He was also three years old, no longer a kitten and not as cute as some of the younger animals they had in there.
The next day, I went back and filled out the adoption papers. Maxwell came home.
It initially hurt a bit. He looks so much like Oswald and has much of the same disposition. Now I am beginning to discover him as Maxwell, as have the two females who are getting over the hissy-fit stage and playing with him.
I promise him a good life. I also promise him a good death when that time will ultimately come. I kept my promise before with Oswald, Carmen and Squeaker, so I know I will do it again. And my heart will break. But that is okay, because he curls up next to me and purrs. I'll grow to love him, too.