Growing up, my brother, Brian, was the pickiest eater. He hated chicken, pork chops, fish…the list goes on. And vegetables? As we Jersey Italians say, “fugettabowdit!” Actually, when we had salads, my mom cut up a Kirby cucumber — the only vegetable Brian would eat — and put it in a bowl, onto which he would pour copious amounts of Thousand Island dressing for his “salad”.
After we both graduated university, my family went on vacation to southeast North Carolina. One evening, Brian announced he was going to plan and prepare dinner for us. My parents and I anticipated a “gourmet” meal of hot dogs and Fritos, so you can imagine our surprise when Brian presented our food: steak, salad (with lettuce and everything!), asparagus, and couscous. Yes, the same kid who thought cucumbers + Thousand Island = salad served his family couscous! Who are you, and what have you done with my brother?!
That is how I felt reading this month’s update. See, at the beginning of each month, a staff member sends an email to all special needs correspondents with short blurbs about each cat, usually explaining medical news that volunteers would otherwise not know. I was amusedly surprised when I read about Max:
The feeding routine for that room involves crating Trey so he eats only his prescription food, and once that’s done, the other two are ready to be served, too. Cypress hangs back, usually on the cat tree, and I bring the food to her. But Max is not so reticent. He jumps up on the table, on my chart, on, well, basically anything that will give him a bit more vertical clearance to be closer to the food in my hand. Max and Cypress get different kinds of food, depending on the day (unlike Trey, who doesn’t seem to mind), and it turns out that Max is a pate boy. When I serve him pate, Max is sometimes just about done with his food before I even leave the room. And it’s not a large room.
Max always struck me as a meat-and-potatoes kind of cat, too rugged to crave something as sophisticated as pate. Max definitely took a page from Brian’s surprising palate playbook!
Thank you for helping to make our big guy more regal than he already was. Because of your generosity, Max is happy — happy with his roommates, happy with his visitors, and happy with his diet. As you know, Max has come so far, and words cannot express my gratitude for your support. Have a great month!