Collin Willis

For nearly as long as I’ve had a sister, I’ve had a cat. He’s gone by many names in his 20 years; Jr, The Old Man, Little Buddy, Schmeowie, but to most he is known as Max. Anyone who’s been to our house and seen my dad in his recliner has seen Max in his happy place, sitting on Dad’s stomach and making biscuits. He is more so a part of the family than any pet we’ve ever had. He is the sole animal present throughout all three of my sibling’s and I’s memories of growing up. He was there through my sister and I’s childhood, all three of our teenage years, and every adult moment we’ve had so far. A running joke among the family is that when the bombs fall or old age wipes us all out, Max will be there with our grandchildren when they lay us to rest. He’s lived so long and through so much that it’s hard to imagine him not living through anything more.

My sister and I were talking to each other about how we’d joked that he was immortal so often that we’d actually started to believe it. He has been a part of our lives nearly as long as we’ve had memories, it is difficult to imagine memories being made without him in the background. And yet that is where we are. Max won’t be there when my grandchildren lay me to rest. Max won’t even be there when my eyes drift off to sleep this evening. It is a bitter truth, but it is truth none the less. Today Max left our family, cashing in his ninth life and passing on to wherever cats go next.

Max’s Nine Lives

In the 20 years that he lived, Max lived with us in three different states. He lived in 9 different houses. He outlived three dogs, his brother Smokey, and a South American fish. He was there for my sister’s first day of elementary school and her last day of high school. He was there for every graduation, wedding, and even funeral. He survived cat-anxiety after we moved him one too many times and he ripped all of his fur out. He survived losing most of his teeth due to old age. He survived our dog Lily’s initial distaste for felines. Max lived through hurricane warnings, snow storms, tornado warnings, and four different presidents.

Our family has had plenty of ups and downs during Max’s lifetime. When housing, jobs, friendships, and all the things that are supposed to be permanent have been anything but, Max has been the constant in the Willis household. When all else wasn’t, Max was.

Thank You, Max

Thank you, Max. Thank you for happily accepting all of our chin scratches. Thank you for letting your tongue hang out of your mouth because old age makes it hard to keep your jaw up. Thank you for the biscuits you’ve made on all of our stomachs, for the purrs that have warmed our hearts, and for being so consistent in the franticness of our youth. Thank you, Max for being a loving presence during the worst days. Thank you, Max for being there to share the best days too. You were the first of four times mom decided to ease up on her “no more cats in this house” rule. You were often the first member of the family I saw when I woke up and the last I saw before I went to sleep. You might not make it to the end of my days, but the memory of you and the comfort you brought to our home 365 days a year for 20 years will remain with us until the end.

We miss you Max. You’ll always be our Schmeowie.