We found Max in our woodpile in June of 1998. He and his two sisters were living with their teen-age mother cat among the stacks of wood and pallets. The kittens weren’t more than about 3 and a half weeks old and skittish as all get out. Yup, Mom taught them to be afraid of their own shadows. Max is still a scaredy cat for the most part, but has learned to live inside with us, enjoy a cozy lap (on his terms), be present when kitty treats are handed out and enjoy being petted–until he’s had enough. He is cooperative when we trim his claws and he likes being combed until we come to a little knot in his fur.
Our biggest challenge with Max is his toilet habits. After years of cleaning up after him and trying to guess at and accommodate his peculiar needs (we even had a cat psychic talk to him once), we’ve discovered that he prefers newspaper to kitty litter. I don’t mean scraps of newspaper–he wants the newspaper laid out in his litter box or on the floor. Sigh!!!
Read more about Max in Catscapades, True Cat Tales. And if you like a cozy mystery, be sure to download my first novel, Catnapped to your Kindle. You’ll find it at Amazon.com.
What kind of cat is Max? His mother was a tiny all black kitty. One sister was all black and one was black and white. He resembles a snowshoe. He weighs in at 16 pounds. He’s one heavy, chunky cat. I noticed the other day that when he stands, there are just a scant 3 inches between the fur on his belly and the floor, desk, bed, table–or wherever he is standing.
He’s always been an agile kitty, but he has trouble now jumping up on my desk or bed, so we bought him some stairs. Do you think he’ll even look at them? No! Lily kitty keeps showing him how to use the stairs, but he won’t have anything to do with them. Is it pride or just pure stubbornness?
