A Tonk's Tail... err, Tale...

A letter to you that we had hoped to never send

2025-09-06T19:35:00.001-05:00

This is the kind of post that you never want to write.

One that cuts deeply, and yet brings soft memories that brush at the heart.

It's about Maxwell, our gentle, sweet boy.

Our beloved Maxie left us on August 24th.

It was ten days earlier, during a nightly belly rub session that the lump was felt. The next morning, his vet examined him and discovered the lump was a kidney, displaced and pushed outward by an intruder — a mass the size of a baseball, growing in Maxie's abdomen. We immediately set up an appointment with an internal medicine specialist who took aspirates and sent the cells off to pathology.

The news was devastating. An aggressive, neuroendocrine neoplasia.

The specialist was amazing. She called daily, while moving heaven and earth to get us into the onologist within a few days. She worked a miracle. We only had to make it through the weekend and the oncologist would see us, with a surgeon lined up to excise the mass if necessary.

We tried everything. After not eating on Friday, Maxie spent 8 hours at the ER on Saturday, being given supportive care in an oxygen tent. We went home that night, and for the first time, Maxie couldn't manage to sleep in the bed with us. He was just too uncomfortable. Throughout the night and on Sunday, he deteriorated before our very eyes, going from an alert boy to one ravaged by pain to the point he was barely aware of his surroundings.

We took him to a different ER, called ahead to let them know that we feared the worst.

They were amazing. The most caring, compassionate people. They stepped up for us at the most heartbreaking time. They promised not to separate us for more than 5 minutes and only to take a quick x-ray and ultrasound.

The doctor compared these new x-rays to the ones taken just ten days earlier. Where before, the mass was a knobby, white ball, with his organs shown in darker areas all around it, now his abdomen looked like a blizzard—solid white. It surrounded his heart, and we couldn't even see his stomach.

Very gently and kindly, the doctor shared the news. News we needed to see and hear to know for certain that the kindest thing to do was to let him go.

They stood beside us. And Maxwell never left our side. He stayed in his Sleepypod, surrounded by family and familiar scents. It was the most reverent, respectful, caring and compassionate passing I have ever experienced.

And it gutted me.

My sweet Maxwell... You are now pain free.

Maxie was our Sentinel, always keeping watch at the top of the stairs.

The Mediator who stood between Faraday's larger-than-life personality and his long-suffering big sister who just wanted a little peace.

The handsomest, most soulful Siamese with the quick, intelligent eyes...

and an insatiable curiosity.

Who loved the kitchen sink (the water faucet, really)...

and disliked the snow.

Occasionally skeptical...

But never pushy... except when Allie wanted a turn on his lounger.

He was a cat who thought deep thoughts.

And he had the best, goofiest expressions.

So goofy, in fact, that they inspired a series of fictional (or maybe not-so-fictional) "PeeMails."

He loved to hang out on ladders (insert himself into any home improvement project, really).

And he could sit for hours beside you, the silence filled with his deep, rumbling purr.

His favorite spot in recent years was under the kitchen table, napping with the sun warming his fur.

It was where he spent his last moments in our home.

Maxie, my sweet, gentle boy... your absence leaves a hole in our lives.

As I walk up the stairs, I imagine you sitting there, your eyes on me, so very intent, so very focused.

As I walk into my office, I hear your questioning hum, your request for a belly rub.

For you, those times were bliss.

We will see you again, sweet boy. Until that time, we hold you close in our hearts.

* * *

Thank you for joining us on this fifteen-year journey,

as we chronicled the antics of our feline crew.

We have forged deep, abiding friendships through this blog —

and that is a priceless gift.

Thank you all for your kind words.

* * *

Supervisory Feline

2022-05-17T19:06:00.002-05:00

Maxie's Musings: Gratitude

2021-11-25T11:20:00.002-06:00

Maxwell: Momma told me today is Thanksgiving Day. It made me want to sit and think for a moment about all the things I have to be thankful for.

My brother (momma told me to say that).

Like a comfortable bed, food, safety - after all, deaf kitties are more defenseless out in the Big Bad World than the average feline....

Oh yes, and a roof over my head, too.
What are you thankful for?

***

The Sunpuddle King

2021-11-19T08:00:00.001-06:00

Seriouslies, Mommy. Go 'ways. I'm napping.

Eight feet above ground, where you can fall if you doze off?

Pffft. I've been doing this for 'leben years. You think you can stop me?

Heaven forbid...

When you're on deadline, and someone feels neglected....

2021-02-22T08:00:00.012-06:00

First, we have the accusing look....

The artist then channels those feeling of neglect into a powerful statement....

As you can see, the result: a masterpiece of feline expression.

I AM THE CHILD.

I HAVE SPOKEN.

THIS IS THE WAY.

The Mom: Don't worry, baby... the book publishes day after tomorrow....

Faraday The Neglected: That's what they always say. *hrmpf*

When you accidentally annoy your coworker....

2021-02-17T08:00:00.000-06:00

The mom: "Maxie! I can't finish my edits! Your tail's in the way!"

Maxwell: Are you saying I have a big butt?

Record Breaking Mews?

2021-02-15T08:00:00.008-06:00

Maxwell: Mo-o-m-m-m-m! It's MINUS FIFTEEN DEGREES OUTSIDE.

Faraday: Seriouslies, Maxie, can you hold it down? Some of us are trying to ignore the Mondays over here.

Maxwell: But dood, it's, like, record breaking cold with wind chills of—

Allie: Maxie, do we look like we care?

Maxwell: *sigh-h-h*

The Mom: It's tough being the smart kitty in the family, isn't it dood?

Maxwell: Momma, you have no idea....

We heard it was snowing in HOUSTON today of all places!

Craaaazy weather! What's it like where you are?

* * *

Not a Fan

2021-01-18T14:00:00.001-06:00

Somekitty remains unimpressed by the white stuff.

We're kinda thinking he's got a point there. How about you?

Holiday Woes

2020-12-21T08:00:00.004-06:00

Allie: Hannukah might be over, but a good gefilte fish is always in season.

I'll just make a quick grab before the brat —

*cue Look Of Discontent*

I HEAR YOU, BRAT. GO AWAY.

Faraday: What? What?!? Didn't anyone tell you, Allie?

This is a double-decker box!

Allie: *sigh* Nothing ruins a girl's day quite like a *sniff-f-f* stinky brother.

Faraday: Hey-y-y! Mommy sez I resemble that remark!

We hope your holidays are going smoothly. The Mom's recovering from surgery on her fractured hand, and will likely not be posting much over the next six weeks while she's in a cast.....

Oh, for opposable thumbs....

Monday Gruntles ™

2020-12-14T08:00:00.001-06:00

Sorry for waking you Maxie. No, I don't need my chair back. I'll just... write while standing.

No, really. It's fine....

Faraday sighting...?

2020-12-08T08:00:00.001-06:00

Faraday: Hey Mommy, look! A stairway up to the attics an' stuffs.

Wait, somebuddy's up there takin' photos of me? (cue shocked look)

The pawparazzi is EVERYwhere. 'Scuse me while I go hide my bonito flake stash....

December kitty...

2020-11-30T08:00:00.002-06:00

...is ready for Spring.

*** * ***

Not too thankful, are you, Allie?

2020-11-23T08:00:00.004-06:00

Faraday: Hey, Allie...

Since we're, like, both outside an' all...

I was wonnerin'...

Could you, like, maybe, you know...

Groom my head furs an' stuffs?

Jus' a little, pleeeeeez? Maxie does it alla time.

Allie: No, Brat, I won't. But you know what I will do?
Faraday: Erm, no....

Allie: Bite your head off for even thinking I might be willing to groom your sorry little...

The Mom: Ahem. Allie?

Faraday: HAAAALP! Mommy! HAAALP! She's gonna kill me!

The Mom: *sigh* Oh Faraday, pipe down. You're not dying....

Faraday: *grumbles* FI-I-INE. Take her side, whydontcha. *huff*

*** * ***

Monday Gruntles ™

2020-11-16T08:00:00.003-06:00

The Mom: You, ah, look a bit scruffy, there, baby. What got your face fur all ruffled?

Faraday: Who you calling scruffy, Mommy, huh? Have you looked inna mirror lately?

....Well?

Sorry Kiddo. I retract my comment....

*** * ***

Major Monday Decisions

2020-11-09T08:00:00.001-06:00

Maxwell: To jump or not to jump....

That's a pretty intense question to ponder this early on a Monday. Maybe I'd better sleep on it a bit longer....

Dood, we feel ya....

* * *

Returning Fall for a Refund

2020-11-04T08:00:00.003-06:00

Allie: *snif-f-f-f* I see Fall is in the air....

This girlcat does not approve.

*** * ***

Monday Gruntles™

2020-10-19T08:00:00.001-05:00

*Zoning out in front of heater in bafroom*

*notices Mommy sneaking up behind him wif flashy box thingy*

*gives Mommy stink eye*

Faraday for the Win!

2020-10-12T08:00:00.001-05:00

I furred Mommy's shirt real good.

#winning

The Ottoman Debate

2020-10-05T08:00:00.006-05:00

Maxwell:Dood. You're in my spot.

Faraday: Finder's keepers, loser's weepers, Maxie.

Maxwell: Yeah, but it's my turn on the ottoman, so get down.

Faraday: *blows raspberry* Why don't you come down here and make me?

*5 seconds later*

Maxwell: Well, if you insist....

The Music Mancat

2020-09-30T11:51:00.003-05:00

Faraday: Maxie, seriouslies. You think you're a maestro or somthin'?

Maxwell: Dood, I firmly believe a mancat should continue to improve upon himself.

The thing's right here. What could go wrong?

Faraday: My ears, Maxie. You could make my ears bleed.

Maxwell: *scoffing noise* Dood. I've heard you meow. Pull the other one.

(cue plinking sounds)

Faraday: Just wait'll Daddy hears you murdering Bach.

* * *

We interrupt this blog for a book announcement

2020-09-16T08:00:00.000-05:00

Faraday: There she goes again, Maxie, hogging all our time.
*sigh*
Maxwell: Yeah, dood, but you forget, we helped her, being her muses and all. Besides, she has cats in the books. And they talk.

Faraday: Seriouslies, Maxie....
Maxwell: Yup, and they're named after physicists, just like us.
Faraday: *rolls paw* yeah yeah yada yada

Maxwell: Don't believe me? Scroll down for an excerpt. (spoiler alert: he demands S-T-E-A-K)
Faraday: I'd rather play wif my new toy....

Maxwell: Dood, you're cruising for trouble, aren't you?
Look, I just think it's cool that her new laptop shows her as a hologram when she types....

Monday's release: 20 sci-fi tales, and more than 600 pages, featuring a vast array of storytelling styles. Including one from our mom!

And then in two weeks, the next big book comes out (here there be CATS).
Here's an excerpt from ...

Ever wonder what the warriors of the Unit and Shadow Recon do on their days off?

If your team leader happens to be a big, badass Marine named Thaddeus Severance the Third, you might just find yourself fighting wildfires on a small terraformed planet named Ceriba, orbiting Procyon's white dwarf, Myr. And when they're done with that? There's the small matter of a payout to settle....

"Forty-five minutes later, Micah brought the Firestrike to a rest, wheels gently kissing the tarmac at Mount Huntington Aviation. On-staff medics were standing by to receive the two smokejumpers, both of whom Nina had triaged on the way back.

Micah hopped out and began to shrug out of his fire-retardant flight suit. He let the arms flap behind him as he joined Nina at the vessel’s side entrance and began restocking the medical supplies the medics had brought along with them.

Movement behind the medics caught his eye and he saw the sleek form of a large cat emerge from the tree line. It came streaking toward them across the clearing.

A piercing whistle split the air moments later, a heads-up from the tower. The cat’s ears flattened in annoyance but he didn’t break his loping stride. Thad pivoted at the sound, and then erupted in a string of low curses when he saw the animal arrowing toward them.

Micah smothered a laugh at the Marine’s reaction.

“Let me guess,” he said, stepping up beside Thad and clapping him on the shoulder. “You still owe him some steaks and he’s here to collect.”

“Dang extortionist,” Thad muttered. The black panther slowed to a prowl, chuffing as he drew to a stop in front of them.

{Deal’s a deal,} Micah heard over his wire as the cat lifted baleful green eyes and pinned them on Thad. {Fifty steaks. I’ve had three.}

Thad’s eyes narrowed and he jabbed a finger toward the large animal. “You’ve had six, you mangy bastard.”

{Too small. Had to double up,} the cat replied, batting away Thad’s finger with a massive paw.

A snort erupted from Nina, causing Thad to pivot and pin her with the kind of glare only a Marine captain could dish out.

“You have something to say, chief?” he demanded.

Micah cupped a hand over his mouth to hide a smile as Nina smirked.

“Sir, yes sir,” she said. “Just wondering if the captain bothered to negotiate the size of those steaks before he entered into the agreement, sir.”

One of the medics paused on her way past. “Chief’s got you there, Thad,” the woman said. Nodding to the black cat, she added, “Pascal’s a pretty savvy negotiator. He’s already conned cook out of ten kilos of bison jerky and two bags of catnip.”

“Catnip?” Micah’s brows rose. He turned to face Pascal. “I didn’t know panthers liked catnip.”

{Not a panther,} Pascal responded.

Micah’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What?”

The medic tilted her head to indicate the ranger station. “A Huntington park ranger dropped by while you guys were rescuing the smokejumpers. Took one look and recognized Pascal’s build and markings.”

{Ceriban hunting cat,} the cat under scrutiny supplied, and then slitted his eyes at Thad once more. {Require lots of fresh meat. More than panthers. Deal’s now for seventy-five steaks.}

“Whoa, hoss, hold on there,” Thad protested. He crossed his arms and stared down at the big animal. “Ain’t nobody ever told you? You can’t renegotiate a contract after the fact.”

{Was negotiated based on panther intake.} Pascal gave the big Marine the feline equivalent of a smirk. {Ceriban hunting cats require more calories.}

“Why you…I oughtta….” Thad sputtered. He glowered at Pascal for another few seconds, and then turned on his heel and marched toward the ranger’s building.

Monday Blues

2020-09-14T08:00:00.000-05:00

Day 34 of our Protest. When the Morning Bonito Flakes haven't kicked in yet and you find yourself sitting in the sink because the faucet kept dripping and it was mesmerizing and you might have overindulged in the nip a bit too much the previous night....

• • •

The Mom is busy chasing a hot book deadline coming up in September...
An' she's kinda mad wif the new Blogger interface...
So she's protesting it by dropping unedited phone pics onna blog for the next few weeks.

Purrsonally, we think that violates Article XVII, Section 65, paragraph B in the Feline Articles of Cat-stitution.
What do you think?

(almost) Wordless Wednesday

2020-09-09T08:00:00.000-05:00

Day 29 of our Protest. Taking up new hobbies #becauseBORED.

• • •

Toilet Paper Trashed

2020-09-07T08:00:00.000-05:00

Day 27 of our Protest. Expert Level: Unlocked. Boosh.

The Mom is busy chasing a hot book deadline coming up in September...
An' she's kinda mad wif the new Blogger interface...
So she's protesting it by dropping unedited phone pics onna blog for the next few weeks.

Purrsonally, we think that violates Article XVII, Section 65, paragraph B in the Feline Articles of Cat-stitution.
What do you think?

• • •

An' ya wanna know what? The hoomins are on MY SIDE.
SRSLY. Just look:

Phone post #4

2020-08-31T08:00:00.000-05:00

The Mom is busy chasing two hot book deadlines that are coming up in September,...
An' she's kinda mad wif the new Blogger interface...
So she's protesting it by dropping unedited phone pics onna blog for the next few weeks.

Purrsonally, we think that violates Article XVII, Section 65, paragraph B in the Feline Articles of Cat-stitution.
What do you think?

• • •

Day 21 of our Protest:

Faraday: MO-O-OMMMM! Allie stole Daddy's rope!

EXHIBIT A:

Allie: I'm not dignifying that with a comment.

Allie: Please tell me he did not wake me for this.
The Mom: He woke you for this.
Allie: *sigh-h-h*

The Mom: Careful, baby. She sounded a bit out of sorts. Maybe you should stand down.

Faraday: I'll show you out of sorts, Mommy, Quit pokin' me. It's my job to rat on... uh, I mean report on Allie.

The Mom: *sigh* and you do it so well, too....
Faraday: *suspicious look* Was that SARCASM, Mommy?
The Mom: Did it sound like it?

#quarantinelifewithcats
#dontaskwhyshehastherope

* * *