My First Experience with Death

What was yours? How did you recover?

My first experience with death was with my cat, Max. This was many years ago when my sister-in-law gave us a Siamese kitten. She was breeding Siamese cats at the time. Max had all the positive traits of Siamese cats; he was not inbred, thanks to his mother, who was not from our area. No crossed eyes, crooked tail, or crazy behavior that was commonly associated with the breed.

Max was a great conversationalist, he could jump from the floor onto the top of the refrigerator without half trying, and he was as friendly as a puppy. Everybody loved him.

When it was time for him to neutered, we took him to the vet for the simple operation.

A few hours later, we received a call from the vet. He felt so bad about the sorrowful message he had for us. Max had died on the operating table from suffocation when he received the anesthetic. Immediately the vet investigated and found that Max had a ruptured diaphragm, probably from jumping or falling from a great height out of a tree. He had been using his stomach muscles to breathe.

We had never heard of anything like that happening before. I was so sad, I couldn’t even look at his body. I couldn’t bear to be present at his burial in our back yard. I cried for days.

I don’t remember how I recovered, but receiving another Siamese kitten from my sister-in-law probably had something to do with it. We named him Andy, and he grew into a big, handsome adult. He was put at stud for a short time before he was neutered, and we took a kitten from one of his litters. Father and son lived to a ripe old age and were a constant source of pleasure and delight.

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