For the love of Maxx

12-31-25

By Carole Canfield
Maximus Chaos ( Maxx) was not “just a cat.”. He was a presence, a shadow at my heels, a quiet comfort, and a love that filled every corner of my life.
Maxx was a Norwegian Forest Cat, about five years old and weighing close to fifteen pounds, though his heart was much bigger than his size. From the very beginning, it was clear he was different. He could sit, shake, give a high five, sit up, lie down, roll over, and even play dead. He came when called or when I whistled for him. These weren’t tricks forced by training, they were choices he made, moments of connection where he seemed to say, I see you, I understand you, and I want to be close to you.
I have never known a cat as intelligent as Maxx. He followed me everywhere, from room to room, never wanting to be far away. Wherever I went, Maxx was there and watching, listening, loving. But what truly set him apart wasn’t just his intelligence; it was his empathy.
Maxx had a best friend named Buddy, a lab/pitt cross who was fifteen years old when he passed away in June. Maxx adored Buddy. Every single night, without fail, Maxx would check on him. He would lie beside Buddy, offering warmth and companionship, as if standing guard. Some nights, after making sure Buddy was settled, Maxx would come upstairs and sleep with me instead. It was as though he knew exactly where he was needed most.
He even followed us outside, padding along faithfully as Buddy and I went out together. All fifteen pounds of Maxx was pure love, gentle, devoted, and endlessly affectionate.
Maxx’s greatest gift was comfort. His snuggles were healing. He seemed to know when someone needed him, and he gave himself freely. He was not only my constant companion, but also Buddy’s, and later, part of the loving trio alongside Isabella. He completed our family in a way that words can barely describe.

Maxx poses for the camera while awaiting petting time. Photo by Carole Canfield

One of Maxx’s favorite things in the world was being brushed. If I said the word “brush,” he would instantly flop over, ready and waiting. Sometimes he didn’t even wait, he would rub himself against the brush, claiming it as his own. And if I stopped brushing too soon, he would look up at me, wide-eyed, almost offended, as if to say, “Wait… what?” Those little moments still make me smile through the tears.
Sadly, Maxx’s life was not without pain. He suffered from megacolon, a condition that caused him repeated and severe discomfort. He endured several attacks that required invasive and sometimes painful procedures. Each time, he fought bravely. But the final attack was the hardest. He was in more pain than ever before, and months of struggle had already taken their toll. Faced with an impossible decision, I chose love over selfishness. I chose peace over pain. We made the heartbreaking choice to let Maxx go, sending him gently to heaven across the Rainbow Bridge. I could not let him suffer anymore, not for me, not for anyone.
Maxx and I thank the veterinary staff at “Town and Country Vets” who did everything they could for Maxx. Dr. Christina cared for him tirelessly, and in the process, they came to love him too. I will always be grateful for their compassion and dedication. He was safe with them too.
I love Maxx like nothing else I have ever known. I miss him every single day. The house is quieter now, lonelier without his soft footsteps and watchful eyes. But I remind myself that love sometimes means letting go, and that he is no longer in pain.
Loving Maxx also meant facing the hardest responsibility any pet owner can endure. Sometimes, as humans, we are faced with the heartbreaking task of euthanizing our beloved companions. It is an unbearable decision, one that weighs heavily on the heart and soul. Yet when pain and suffering become greater than comfort, and when there is no longer a path toward healing, that choice must be made for their benefit, not our own.
In those moments, love asks everything of us. We choose to carry the grief so they no longer have to carry the pain. No matter how deeply it hurts, this final decision becomes the purest act of compassion, a selfless expression of love, mercy, and devotion to the life we were so blessed to share, even if only for a little while.
I have countless beautiful pictures, endless memories, and a heart forever changed by the love of one extraordinary cat. And deep down, I know this isn’t goodbye forever. One day, on the other side, I will see Maxx again. He’s in my heart, mind and soul. I’m sure I see him trot by some nights. Until then, I carry him with me, for the love of Maxx.