Greetings, Max Maniax!

Since February is considered the month of love, I figured I’d impart to you everything I learned about love as a child of the ’80s. That’s right, kids! Everything I learned, I learned from John Hughes films and Seventeen magazine. (Lord help us!) These outlets taught me (and my peers) two things, both of which probably explain why I didn’t have a boyfriend until I was 20.

First, anybody worth dating absolutely cannot be a dweeb, dork, geek, or fat. Secondly, and perhaps the most important, your life is completely and utterly over if you get a ZIT! And love?!? Fuh-gettahbowd it! Grab a copy of Seventeen circa 1989 and count the ads for Clearasil, Stridex, and Oxy to see for yourself.

It is for these reasons that Max is lucky he’s at Tabby’s Place and not in high school. You may remember I mentioned Max holds the distinction of being the heaviest resident at Tabby’s Place. Add to it his anti-feline sentiment, and you already have the recipe for the least popular kid on the playground.

This, however, is not enough for our favorite crazy kitty. No! It seems Max wants to ensure he’s not even considered for Homecoming King (which is unfortunate, because, as you know, he is such a handsome boy!) See, Max has developed acne. (insert sinister “duh duh DUH” music here) Fortunately, it’s not a big deal, and he couldn’t care less.

Actually, nothing fazes Max anymore, it seems. There are no more Battle Royales, no more mistaking my wrist for a chicken leg. There aren’t even any more warning meows. All of this would be impossible without your amazing generosity, for which I am truly grateful.

Have a blessed month, as I try to convince Max to reconsider a bid for Homecoming King. Be well.