UPDATE: I’m so saddened to report that Max only lived in the lap of luxury with Bob for a few short months until he passed. I’m just so grateful he lived out what was left of his short life in Bob’s home and wasn’t put to sleep in a shelter. Bob said that Max would come up on his bed in the morning though he wouldn’t sleep with him there (which I know Bob was hoping for). Bless Bob for all that he did. xo
Today I received the best Valentines Day present ever. Not flowers or chocolates. Today I received an update on Max.
For those of you who are not familiar with Max, he’s a senior kitty dumped at the ACC (NYC kill shelter) after 14 years with a family due to “allergies.”
After living in my bedroom for about a month, he found a forever home – hopefully his last – with Bob, an older gentleman in Yonkers who lost his cat a few years ago. [read on to see the sweetest photo ever]
Today I received an update on how the two of them are doing from their neighbor Karen (my spy!), a wonderful woman I met when she herself adopted two of my foster babies. My heart burst when I read her note:
“So I called Bob before going upstairs. I walked in the door and Max was sitting on the couch watching TV with Bob. I walked over and said hello. He got up and came to me. He let me pet him for a few minutes then went back to where he was sitting. I sat down next to him on the couch and he let me pet him. When he was done he jumped onto the floor and sat next to Bob. All is well!!!”
People often ask if I feel a sense of accomplishment when my fosters find forever homes. The truth is that I don’t. It’s just something I do without giving it much thought. I see it as a very small way I can do my part for the kitties.
But when I dropped Max off with Bob a few weeks ago, what Bob said to me as he closed the door has stayed with me.
“Max is my family now.”
He probably said it to reassure me that Max would be all right. But in that moment it hit me. Two old men found a companion that day.
I love the photograph above of Max in Bob’s kitchen. When I let him out of the carrier he sauntered right over to the kitchen, stood by the two empty bowls and looked up at Bob like “Where’s the food dude?” The look on his face is priceless. Someone said it looked like he was telling me he’d be okay. That I could go home.
I miss my bedroom cat – as I fondly took to calling him – but it warms my heart to think of them on the sofa together watching TV at nights.