We were never more than just a waystation for Max. I could feel that from the beginning. As the weeks went by, I was finally able to get him eating better, but even so, his temperament got worse and worse. It almost seemed like he just couldn't bring himself to love us, because he knew he had somewhere else to be, and he growled and snapped at everyone, even me. And he continued to lose weight, so I know the cancer was overtaking him. We released him last Sunday. I hope his spirit has reunited with his daddy, out in the Universe.
(No, Foxy doesn't miss him. She tolerated (and largely ignored him) for the most part, until he started getting testy and growly, at which point she would go after him, almost as if she were trying to protect us.)