Embed from Getty ImagesCongratulations to American Triple Crown winner Justify and all his connections, especially jockey Mike Smith! Justifiably CHAMPIONS!
Anyway, a lot of mention was made on TV yesterday of “where were you when Pharoah won the Triple Crown?”
Pretty much the same place as I was then, except MacGuyver and I switched seating positions. Almost everything else was all pretty much the same. Scenes of a sunny New York day on TV. Fast horses. “New York, New York.” All the Manhattan icons: the Statue of Liberty, the skyline, the busy streets.
Um, okay. Some things are different.
The Triple Crown trophy is different, and we’ll talk about that in another post. According to the Daily Racing Form, the main trophy may be coming to a town near you, like the Stanley Cup.
But the biggest difference was personal to MacGuyver and me.
Someone was missing.
On the Friday night of Memorial Day weekend, we lost Max, our kitty of fifteen years.
We’d adopted him as a sickly kitten just before I went into the hospital with a complicated case of pneumonia.
I can’t say his convalescence and growth coincided with mine because medication improved him fast.
Let’s just say pneumonia was the least of my problems then, plus the meds caused as many new problems as they solved. I passed out a couple of times and came to with an orange kitten climbing over me.
Max grew or morphed, amazing how that happened, into a young adult cat with some serious swag. My condition improved, too, so doctors reduced my meds.
When he was four, our vet diagnosed Max with cardiomyopathy. With medication, the vet said, Max could live four more years.
We watched a lot of horse racing together, among other things. He was my Finder of Lost Things, as I would say, “Max, where did I put my _____?” We ate steamed clams, and, yes, I gave him the best parts.
He also liked shrimp and was partial to deli meat, especially Boar’s Head Honey Maple Turkey.
As my health improved, I returned to horse riding. I’d come home from the barn with the aroma of Big Prey on my fingers. Max was a housecat, so I liked to bring him the world.
Time passed. He, once again, maximized expectations by living almost five more years after his prognosis expiration date.
Still, it’s never long enough.
This particular Triple Crown memory will carry a shadow tinted orange.