Life is fleeting. So are borrowed kitties.

This time of year, I usually reflect about life and death. The November 2nd accident that killed three people in my high school marching band was a formative experience in my teen years.

In undergrad, I used to send mass emails to my high school friends. It was a way to stay connected from Boston. As the years passed, the messenger changed to myspace and facebook. Last year, I blogged: Reflect, remember, recover.

This year, I remembered, but I didn’t write about it. For the first time in years. Not sure why. Maybe I’m entrenched in life and learning and playing.

But then, Max moved away.

Max, looking toward greener pastures?

To be accurate, his owner, Scott moved away. We talked to him this weekend as he was bringing carloads of belongings to his new place in South Austin. Max and his yappy dog sister, Tina, were already there.

We didn’t get to say goodbye.

On the one hand, this is all very silly, because Max is just a cat. He’s not even our cat – he’s just a cat that sometimes stopped by to sit on us and squirm while we were eating breakfast or reading. He sometimes made it more fun for me to work from home.

On the other hand, we had formed a relationship. Just last week, I wrote a tongue-in-cheek blog post about him. And now, he’s gone without notice. The way Tripp, Ryan, and Curtis died without warning.

The takeaway here is that life is fleeting. So are borrowed kitties.


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