I found Montana Mae or I should say she found me on a job site out in the middle of nowhere near Madras, Oregon, in Nov. of 2000. She was an 8 month old tortise shell cat with a spirit as big as all of life. It took us the better part of 8 years to help her to realize her full potential as a special cat with a fierce streak of independence and I could fill a book with our experiences together. I told everybody that she was the cowboy dog I never had and the best damn cat west of the Pecos River.

On Aug. 27 of this year we had to make what the vet called the most difficult, but kindest decision of all.. Montana Mae succumbed to a freak and savage dog attack which took place on Aug. 13 and the resulting infections. Montana fought bravely to stay alive. Feedings by a feeding tube every 4 hours around the clock, a schedule of many medicines to mix and inject through the tube, cleaning the wound cavities, and trying to keep her clean and comfortable. She did not let go of her life easily and we would have done anything to help her survive, but it was not meant to be.

My wife stayed with her at the end and I will love her forever for doing that. I couldn’t watch my buddy pass. I said my goodbyes and left the room with her eyes focused on me all the way and my eyes filled with tears. I told myself and my wife that I had to be able to believe in some part of my mind that sometime in the future when working at my computer that this 17 lbs. cat would land in the middle of my keyboard like normal demanding attention, or that I might still wake up one morning right on time with this little black face a half inch from my nose making sure I didn’t sleep in, or that I might be attacked walking down the hall by someone ready to play hide and seek.

Losing Montana has left a void in our lives and a hole in our hearts. We will have other animals, but never another Montana Mae. Thank you, Mark, for allowing us to tell the world how special she was and how loved she was.

Greg from OR