My cat broke up with me last month. Packed his bags and moved out like a dead beat dad with a mistress in Tulsa. I’m not sure how I feel about that, frankly. On the one hand, like the spurned wife in my terrible analogy, I never saw it coming. On the other hand… my house has never smelled better, also like losing a man. Cue Conway and Loretta singing, “It’s your fault our kids are ugly”.

Max the cat has never exactly been the house favorite. He and his sister came to us as teens through Facebook friends of a friend of a friend, like a lot of crappy roommates. They needed a place to crash and we were catless, so we took in the pair. I only share that so you know I’m not a total asshole. Animals LOVE me… usually. We all lived together in harmony for a few years and then Max started PEEING everywhere. You’ve either known this hell or you haven’t but, let me tell you, when a cat decides to express himself through urine… it ain’t good. We tried multiple litter boxes of every construction and configuration. We tried plug in air-freshener style mood stabilizers and even cat-antidepressants, (I only tried them once, I swear). We tried just leaving towels down for him to pee on. That last one kinda worked, but it was gross and smelly.

Then, mid-covid, my neighbor passed away and her ancient, skinny black cat needed a home. We became a 3-cat household. Max was NOT impressed. But… nothing really changed. He kept peeing everywhere, we kept telling him to play in traffic (with love – Whiskey used to suggest that to me ALL the time growing up), Queenie became everyone’s favorite little old lady cat, Mimi kept stealing all the food.

This summer, something changed. Max started spending the night outside more often than not. I got it, it was hot and fun stuff happens at night. Then, he’d disappear for a couple nights. Working late, not coming home for dinner, lipstick stains on his collar. All the signs were there, he was a fleabag of excuses.

Then we went off for the weekend. We had cat sitters but Max never came home. We were GUTTED. Okay, the eldest kid was gutted. The little one wants a puppy. The engineer was so happy I thought he might have hired someone to “take care of” the situation. I was…worried. But also, my house smelled pretty good.

A couple of weeks went by and, PLOT TWIST, Max came back! Which is to say, Max thought it was safe to walk close to his old digs. The Madness caught him, tears in her eyes, and threw him in the house where he proceeded to YOWL, claw at every door, and scream at the other cats. He wouldn’t eat treats. He wouldn’t accept snuggles. He wanted OUT.

So I let him out. When you love something, let it go, right?

Saw him the other day cruising down the sidewalk towards me. I waved and called out. He crossed the street.

Cool, bro. Real cool. See you when it snows, I guess.