Tears for Max

"But Mommy, do we have to?"
"Yes Darling, the doctor says it's best."
Standing in that cold examination room, my beautiful little girl looked
up at me, her big brown eyes brimming with tears. She said to me, "But
he's such a loving kitty; he never did anything to anybody!"
"I know Baby, I know. The doctor says that his legs are hurt too bad
and they'll never heal right and it would be cruel to let him keep on
suffering like that."
Her pretty little face contorted as tears began to flow more freely.
"But Mommy, he's a living and breathing thing. There are so many mean
people in the world and he's so loving and trusting. We can't just kill
him!"
"I know, Sugar, but he would never be able to run and play and climb
trees like the other kitties. And what if some big ol' dog got after
him? He wouldn't be able to run away."
"Hey, I know! We could keep him inside! He could be an indoor
cat!"
"No Honey, we can't do that. He's a stray and we already have Rocky
living inside, and you know dogs and cats don't get along. Besides, you
wouldn't want to see the poor kitty dragging his back legs around
behind him for the rest of his life would you?"
"But Mommy . . . !"
So many emotions were crowding their way into my precious little girl
that the words caught themselves in her throat and couldn't find their
way out. When I crouched down next to her, she flung her arms around my
neck and the force of her pain shook her entire body. I'm glad that she
was hugging me, otherwise she would have been able to see the tears
beginning to form in my own eyes.
"But Mommy, Max doesn't have a home. He came to us because he didn't
have anyone to take care of him! He trusted us!"
"Oh, Sweetheart, when did you name him?"
"On the way over here. He was crying so loud and I was petting him,
telling him we were taking him to the vet to make him better."
Holding her firmly, I said, "I'm sorry Precious, that's just one
promise that we're not going to be able to keep. Just look at him . . .
he's suffering. You don't want him to keep on suffering, do you?"
She took a deep breath and stepped back from me as she wiped her eyes.
"No, I wouldn't want that."
"Well then this is what we have to do."
The vet came in and asked if we were ready. I nodded and quietly said
yes, handing him the forms that he had asked me to sign.
"Can I pet him one last time?"
"Better not, dear."

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The ride home was difficult. She held the empty clothes basket in her
lap, gently cradling it, holding it as if the cat were still in it. She
finally looked at me and asked, "Will he go to heaven, Mommy?"
I nearly burst into tears right then and there. I swallowed hard and
bit the inside of my lip. All I could think to say was "He won't be
hurting anymore; to him, that will be like heaven."
She didn't say anything else the rest of the way home, nor did she say
anything when we got into the house. She carried the empty clothes
basket, as gently as ever, and put it in its place back in the laundry
room and then she went down the hall to her bedroom and quietly shut
the door.

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"John . . . I wanted to call you at work to ask you what to do about
the cat, but the vet assured me that it was the right thing to do.
Jessie is so heartbroken; I can hear her crying through her bedroom
door. I can barely keep from crying, myself.
"She'll get over it and forget all about it . . . . Won't she?"