Max the Cat

February 21, 2010 at 10:43 pm (Uncategorized)

When I was in university in the late 80s, I got a cat whom I called Benn. Now I loved that cat, but the fact that he scratched or bit pretty much everyone he met made him a little difficult to handle. After a while my wife developed an allergy, and we were forced to give him away.

No more pets.

The neighbourhood I live in had a cat. His name was Max. Actually he belonged to a neighbour, but he always seemed to be outside. Once he loped into our backyard and I gave him milk. That was it. After that he seemed to come by almost every day for attention. Quite often after he had received his daily TLC quota, he sat on the back porch mat as if to say this is my place.

A cat with personality.

On Tuesday, we heard he had died. Initially I feared he had been hit by a car, but it seems as if it was a heart attack. A friend told us that there’s an illness raccoons get which is transferable to other species, and Max had plenty of run-ins with raccoons.  

We all felt sad. My wife was especially looking forward to spending  the summer with him. Life goes on.  

Max on a Fence

I don’t want to turn this into the kind of blog where I feel what I had for breakfast is of interest to others. Nor should it become a personal blog. Yet, I decided to write this little note about a cat I barely knew, but that I feel sad because I will never see him again.

Is it simply familiarity or that cats are intrinsically cute? (The last person to say that was bitten by Benn as she petted him) Perhaps there’s something about our species that allows for empathy towards other living things. The political association to which I belong published an extended debate on species being (or human nature over the course of several issues of our magazine) I think it’s worth a think. What is it that truly makes us human?

Max, you will be missed.

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4 Comments

  1. Darren said,

    Benn as in Tony?

    Nothing wrong with personal blogs. I’m currently using my blog to list the films I’ve seen this year. I’ve never been so prolific. 😉

    • fischerzed said,

      Yup. It was the eighties. He was almost called Scargill.

  2. Darren said,

    At least it wasn’t Hatton.

    Our Boston Terrier dog is called Marty . . . which is short for Martov. 😉

  3. ball noir said,

    the cat on the tin roof

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