Maxwell was born in Hickory, North Carolina, on March 17, 2000, which means that he was 14 years old yesterday. He is a British Shorthair, and he looked like this when he was about a month old, and my daughter, Emily, visited him for the first time.
Here he is with three of his litter mates.
Emily brought him here when he was 13 weeks old, and he looked like this.
And a couple of weeks later:
When Li'l Grey (one of his many nicknames) was about 9 months old, he was diagnosed with a virus in his optic nerves. What started out as a painful condition developed into a chronic health concern that is managed with daily medications, Interferon drops in his eyes, and lysine crushed and mixed with his food twice a day. When a flare up starts, we add up to three additional medication drops, which we keep on hand so that we can usually "nip in the bud" any flare up. It has been several years since a flare up has fully developed.
Even with this problem, Maxwell has a Very Good Life*, and he brings us great joy and much laughter. He is sweet and friendly; he likes everybody.
About 10 years ago, it is quite possible that Maxwell saved our lives, yes! He alerted us (by reaching up a wall, over and over again, until I checked it out) to what turned out to be an electrical problem in a wall, which prompted Louie to turn off the power until he (Louie) opened the wall and discovered some overheating wiring! If Maxwell hadn't alerted us to it, we would have gone to bed, and it's likely that a fire would have started and been well under way by the time a smoke detector would have sounded the alarm!
Maxwell is very polite. When it's time for his dinner, he comes into the kitchen and crouches down, staring at where his dinner would be if only someone would fix it for him, please! I think he'd prepare it himself if he could.
He is my very own Office Max. I had to take a photo of my laptop keyboard—because he just loves to sit on it and pluck off the keys—so that I could pop the keys back on in the right places. One time he started to create a macro, and another time he was busily composing an email. Perhaps to one of his brothers?
Always one to love tissue paper (he's opening his Christmas present here)...
and a help with holding down pattern pieces in my sewing room.
Maxwell is not afraid of a little workout.
His newest interest is jigsaw puzzles. (He swishes off *many* pieces from the table onto the floor. Every day.)
He comes upstairs every night at about 9 pm for his treats (Monday, Wednesday, and Friday: hairball treats, all other days: tartar control treats). I give him his treats, he runs downstairs, then reappears 5 minutes later as if to say, "Okay, I'm here for my treats now"—as if he hadn't just had them! Every night!
Because it is stress that is the greatest "cause" of a flare up, we maintain a steady routine for him. He is never left alone overnight. My son, Chris, maintains Maxwell's medication and feeding routines and sleeps here the once or twice a year that Louie and I are both away at the same time.
Last Tuesday night, I returned home from Florida. On Wednesday morning, the very minute I removed the last item from my carry-on bag, Maxwell did what he always does, positioned himself on the bag and settled in for a nice nap, while outside it was a blizzard (really). Here's his day in photos:
These are just a few of the reasons that today, I say, Happy Birthday, Maxwell! We love you, Li'l Grey ~ Maxwell House ~ Blue ~ Mr. Tomato Head ~ Mr. Maxwell!
* "Capitalize the Important Words" is an editorial style choice, although not one endorsed by the Chicago Manual of Style (or any other style guide, really).
So, what do you love about
your pets?
Blessings and peace...
