It is with profound sadness that I announce the sudden passing of Max Powers, kitten extraordinaire.



Last week, Max displayed behavior completely uncharacteristic of his usual friendly, albeit scaredy, self: he crapped on our bed. At first, I thought it was just his way of protesting the arrival of baby Cassandra and the fact that I haven't been giving him as much attention. But then he also threw up and started urinating outside the litter box - and also on our bed. I knew something was decidedly wrong, so I took him to the emergency vet. He had a urinary tract infection.

I had a slight breakdown.

Urinary tract infections are very dangerous in cats - they can lead to urethral blockage, kidney failure, and death. So I didn't waste time in trying to treat the problem. Unfortunately, the emergency room was incredibly busy that night (Labor Day), being the only emergency vet open that weekend, so I waited 3 hours before seeing a doctor. But when we were seen, my fears were confirmed: UTI. We were given antibiotics and sent home.

Since Peat was away in London, I was going to be staying with my parents for the latter part of the week. I decided to take Max to our regular vet and board him there so they could administer his medication and monitor his progress. (No easy feat: in order to get Max Powers into his kitty carrier, one had to don oven mitts and practically hog-tie him. He was terrified of the carrier and wouldn't be picked up for love or money. And back claws can do as much harm as front claws. I still have two scratches left from him.)

So we went to the vet where I saw the cage he would be staying in. I scratched his head and told him he was a good boy and kissed him goodbye. Later that day, I got a call saying he developed a urethral blockage and needed surgery. I okayed whatever it took to make him well, but that evening I received another call telling me that while under the anesthesia, Max went into cardiac and respiratory arrest. He just stopped breathing.

My mother-in-law was staying with me in Peat's absence, and I'm so glad she was there. She knew Max and has owned cats for years, so she knew what I was going through. She also knew how hard it would be to tell Peat, especially while he was away on the most important trip of his life. We decided that while I needed to tell him, I should wait until all the business-related stuff was over so as not to put a pall on all the wonderfulness he was experiencing.

Now we're both back home with Jinx, who has been more affectionate than ever before. She follows us around the house, she sleeps with us, and she wants to play more. It's almost as if she's incorporated the friendliness of Max into her own personality. Maybe Max passed his katra on to Jinx before he died.





"He's not really dead. Not as long as we remember him."