Keeping low to the ground, Mo crept forward with his eyes on his prey who was sitting on a flat rock, sunning himself while he meticulously washed his face.
Pausing, before he launched his sneak attack, Mo murmured, “Such a primma donna. He really believes he is the most handsome cat on heaven or earth. He wishes.”
His hind legs trembling, Mo leapt and pounced on the unsuspecting cat named Emeril Wolfgang. “Tag! You’re it!”
Mo took off running with his big brother, Emeril in fast pursuit. They ran through the tall grass, past the sky-blue pond and bird baths full of singing blue jays. They ran for miles and miles until they saw the All-Seeing Lake. They scampered to the edge of the lake and took a few sips of clean, fresh water.
“Should we see what Mommy is doing?” Emeril asked Mo.
“Okay.” Mo said.
Together they closed their eyes and wished to see their Mommy. After a moment, the water began to swirl and change colors. Soon they could see their Mommy sitting on the couch, all alone.
“She’s still crying.” Mo murmured. Surrounded by used kleenexes, Mommy clutched a picture of Emeril and sniffled loudly before breaking into silent tears.
“It’s understandable.” Emeril said with a small nod. “I am awesome, so it’s no surprise that she would miss me and be sad.”
Mo gave his brother a gentle head-butt. “You are not that awesome, Emeril. We should do something to help Mommy so she’s not sad.”
“I am too that awesome. Mommy said so. But you are right. We should help Mommy because she is a very good Mommy. I raised her right.”
“I know what she needs.” Mo meowed. “She needs a new kitty!!”
“Meow?” Emeril twitched his nose. “You think so? Nobody is as awesome as I—
“Emeril!” Mo interrupted. “This is about Mommy. Not you!”
“Right. right. Mommy needs a new kitty. What kind of a kitty?”
“A boy” Emeril and Mo meowed together.
“A handsome boy. But not too handsome.” Emeril added before he began cleaning his paws.
“Right. A handsome boy kitty but not as handsome as you.”
“That’s right.” Emeril nodded. “It shouldn’t be too hard. I am an exceptionally handsome while most kitties are just good-looking. He should also have big white paws. You know how Mommy loves big white paws.
“I do.” Mo gave his own big, white paws a quick lick. Clean paws meant a happy cat he reminded himself. It did not make him a prima donna cat like Emeril who was washing his face again—for the 100th time today. “He should be fun and playful, like me!”
“Okay. I guess. Playful is maybe a bit overrated but sure. Mommy’s new kitty can be playful.”
“Just because you weren’t playful, Emeril, doesn’t mean it’s overrated. Besides after taking care of you—kitty of a 1000 enemas—Mommy deserves a big, goofy cat.”
“I most certainly did not have 1000 enemas! You lie, Mo! And my personal private bathroom issues are not to be discussed. Ever!”
Emeril continued to pout while Mo tried hard not to laugh. Well, he didn’t try too hard. Emeril’s well-documented history of chronic constipation was a treasure trove of good-natured ribbing between brothers.
“Okay,” Mo said now that he could meow without laughing. “We agree Mommy needs a big boy kitty with white paws who is playful. What else?”
“He needs to be a snuggler. Mommy loves to snuggle.”
“Agreed. Snuggle time makes her so happy. So we need to find a boy cat with big white paws who loves to play and snuggle. Mommy would love that kitty.”
Emeril and Mo searched for the kitty that meet their very specific requirements. They saw all sorts of kitties—big and small, striped and spotted—but finally they found a big, ginger tabby cat with a huge heart and mischievous personality.
“There he is” Mo meowed triumphantly. “What should we call him?”
The two kitties pondered this for a minute as they watched their Mommy mope around their home. They felt so bad for Mommy, but they knew a new kitty would perk her right up and so many good kitties needed a home. They remembered how happy they were when Mommy found them and brought them home. This new kitty was going to be spoiled and loved so deeply—just as they were.
Emeril finally said, “Max. She will call him Max.”
One year ago I walked into the humane society with a heavy heart and left with 17 pounds of pep. Mighty Max makes me laugh every day and eased my pain from the passing of my beloved, Emeril. Max scampers around the apartment, looking for mischief, and he snuggles so sweetly with me. Max—your big brothers, Emeril and Mo brought you to me and I couldn’t be happier. Happy birthday, Max!