i first saw him in the renaissance office on a September day. Nina said, have you seen the kitty? and i said what kitty? she pulled back a conference table chair. there he was, little, curled up, sleeping. black and white. i took him home "for a while" and he won me over. Alshane had been calling him Sam, but i had a different idea. back then, tomb raider was popular and people likened me to Angelina Jolie (she was heavier than she is now, i was thinner). so i adopted the little guy and named him Maddox. Maddox stayed out on the screened in porch off of my apartment every day while i was at work. the first thing i could see when i came home was his little head and paws, peeking over the pane of the door. we listened to music. he laid on my chest and purred during Jamie Cullum. he frolicked to the white stripes. and he ran nervously during nickel creek. he sat on my keyboard while i played. he kept me company. he was my companion. living alone for the first time was scary. i didn't know much. i was lonely and looked for distractions from being lonely. months passed and i awoke to my life and started to figure some things out. like how to listen for God. how to obey Him. how He was better than any distraction from life. He is life. i left the town that Maddox came from, McKenzie, and i moved back to Smithville for a time. Maddox came with me. he was always a good traveler. i can remember him curling up in my lap, looking up at me in the moonlight while we winded around center hill lake. he looked content. he went to Smithville, then spent a summer in Nashville at my grandmother's, then back to Smithville, then to my apartment in Hermitage, then back to Smithville, then finally to a new apartment in Nashville with a new roommate. my husband, Bradley. Maddo and Brad always had sort of a love/hate relationship. Maddox loved Brad, and Brad hated him. okay, hate is strong. he loved that cat way more than he usually let on. Maddox had some boundary issues with this arrangement, as in he peed on our bed numerous times. lesser men would have kicked Maddox to the curb. but not my man. with me, it was a package deal. love me, love the giant furball that was Maddox. and people really did. several times, i had people who didn't like cats, tell me they liked Maddox. maybe it's because he was a little like a dog. he had that "love me LOVE ME!" attitude that cats basically never have. he craved social interaction. it was hard for him, i think, when Ethan and McKenzie came along. he played second and third fiddle after that. but he put up with a lot more from my children than i ever thought he would. maybe it was age, but he was quiet and still when they would put their little heads down on him, or hug him, or even pull his tail. he was incredibly special. he was weird, and not super graceful, and he loved yogurt. he had the most fur of any cat I've ever seen. it started turning brown when we finally moved to our house in mount Juliet with a fenced in yard and he could go outside. he loved going outside. it was like he was a kitten again. he hadn't lived outside since he WAS a kitten. to see him lying in the sun on our deck was a pleasure. i didn't spend as much time with him in the end and i do have guilt about it, but i think he knew he was loved. on march 26, around 8pm, i went to call him inside so i could put him in the garage. i looked down on him in his bed, and he didn't look back up at me, like he always had. i ran. his eyes were open. he was curled up in that little bed, under that spring sky, and he was gone. my young adulthood died with him. he was there when i was at my most lost, my worst. he was there when i started out on my own. and he saw the place i arrived at, with my husband and my kids and my house, and i guess it was time for him to move on. i didn't want him to go. brad and i used to joke that Maddox was like the mouse in The Green Mile, that he was never gonna die. Brad said that Maddox would outlive him. so one of the things i remember saying right when i knew he was gone was, "he was supposed to live forever". aren't we all.
i turned 35 on Monday and it was the most sobering birthday I've had. i felt as if the past was locking the door. don't come looking again. what you want is no longer here. i have to accept that what happened and where i am now are part of the Major Big Plan, and do the absolute best with what i've been given. i was given 11 1/2 years with an animal that was just an animal, oh but so much more. i cried into that thick fur and i scratched his ears and he purred and purred. he was happy. i'm happy he was with me for so long. but i didn't want him to leave. my young adulthood is now buried in the backyard, with iris bulbs planted over it. and my cat who was so afraid of storms that he would hide over the bed every time (seriously, he was basically a walking tornado alarm) will never have to be afraid again. storms are coming cause its spring. but it'll make the flowers grow.
Samuel Maddox Duke Shelander
April 1, 2005 - March 26, 2017
Share This Article
