Many times Max would prepare for bed, but before he could fluff his pillow or get completely tucked in, there was Bruce. With one gigantic leap Bruce would claim the center of the bed. Bruce insisted on a little extra room. I'd laugh and say, "Thank you, Bruce, for picking us. Then I'd say, "Max, thank Bruce for picking us." And, Max would mock, "Thank you Bruce for picking us, can you give me little room, please?" That was our routine.
Deciding Bruce could stay six years ago, when he moved in as a foster cat, was the easy part, knowing that we had to let him die peacefully was hard -- very hard. His kidneys were deteriorating, he wasn't always eating, his weight kept dropping, sometimes he just stared off into space, AND he wasn't jumping on Max's bed.
I will always be grateful that Bruce chose to live with me. Bruce died Friday, August 20, 2010. I love you Bruce.