He Lives!

Max lives! He is going to be okay and apologies to those of you who thought he died because I hadn't posted in a while. It took over our lives for three weeks, but yesterday his wounds healed up enough to take off the hateful Cone! It will take a while for his hair to grow back, but we can live with that.

Here he is in his Christmas outfit, a gift from my boss Stephen and his family. The shirt is perfect--it hides his scars and keeps him warm.

The first few weeks after his surgery we let him sleep on the bed because he was wearing the hateful Cone. But that meant he slept on me. On my chest. On my belly. The first week he wanted to be anywhere on my core. Maybe because I felt as if I had a piece of my heart torn out. And a piece of my soul. Some people thought he was afraid. But I think he was healing me.