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.
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.
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:
* "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...