Friday, October 10, 2003

I'm feeling a little more sad this morning.  I was getting ready for work and went down to the basement for something.  That's when I spotted Max's "nest". 

There's a chair near Nora's sewing machine with a folded up comforter on it.  Nora had fluffed and shaped it so he could curl up into it and keep her company for hours.  She hasn't moved it.  That impression in the comforter is yet another representation of the hole he left in our lives.

I suppose it's premature of me to think I'll heal any quicker.  It took me years to get over Dmitri's death -- why would this be any different?

I'm beginning Max's Legacy today.  The company that distributes Cansema had their website closed down by the FDA.  The reasons stated are they've claimed they have products that cure cancer.  In actuality, they make not such claims -- the testimonials to those claims are by their clients.

In any case, someone on the VAS list expressed an interest in Cansema, but said they couldn't get it.  So, I'm passing on the pills that were sent to be by someone on the list.  I want to keep alive the spirit in which they were given to me, rather than take any money for them.

I've written a short-form version of a quasi-biography of Max, which will eventually appear on this website.  It lists all the little things that made up his personality.  I'm printing them off and will include them with any donations I make in the future.  I've read a lot of on-line dedications to people's pets, but most of them don't really allow the reader to get to know the animal.  Hopefully, this will be different.

One of these short-form bios is going in the mail with the Cansema.  I suspect that in the back of my mind, some of my sadness comes from these post-Max acts.  But, I also should think that I'm doing something positive -- I shouldn't hold onto something that reminds me of Max's time of illness.  If these supplements can do some else's pet some good, then that will be part of Max's legacy.