Saving Maxwell

I learned something new about myself yesterday. I will sacrifice a foot but not a hand. I wonder why. Certainly, walking is better than handling things but under pressure I was willing to sacrifice the foot and not the hand. The decision came under great diress. We were introducing a new cat to the mix of too many farm animals that live on the property. On the way to the barn the dogs came up to introduce themselves and Maxwell, the cat, freaked out. Luckily, I was not the one holding him. After the cat handler was able to dig the cat out from underneath his skin, literally, Maxwell ran away from the barn and up to the house to hide in one of the window wells. While the original cat handler was in receiving first aid treatment, I proceeded to find Maxwell and see if I could persuade him to hide in the barn away from the dogs. However, the dogs figured out what I was up to and they obviously wanted to repay Maxwell's initial greeting of hisses and growls and scratches with equal impact of barks, growls, and fur-flying.
So back to the story of the foot instead of the hand enlightenment. During the attack of three dogs against one cat, I decided to go in and save Maxwell. In pulling the dogs off I refrained from intruding with any of my limbs. But as fur was flying, urgency was of upmost importance so I went into the middle of the pack with my foot. I attempted to push the dogs away from the cat without exposing too much leg. When that didn't work I stepped back and punted. Score! Dogs and fur flying, I covered Maxwell with a rubber tub for which he seemed grateful and would not come out of.
In the whole process, I discovered something about myself. I would sacrifice my foot but not my hands. Why is that? Do I prefer handling things, touching things, over walking? Have you ever played that game where you try to decided which of your five senses you would be willing to lose if you had to lose just one? Which limb would you be willing lose if you had to give one up?
Unfortunately, many of our troops that are returning home from battle with missing limbs or senses didn't get to choose. They didn't get to choose which limb or which sense or how many limbs or senses they would prefer to lose. All they knew is in the heat of the battle, they had to save Maxwell. They went for it without really thinking, some more willing than I, jumped in with their whole bodies giving their all. Some sacrificing much, some sacrificing all, and all sacrificing something. In the end, they all will learn something about themselves and much more: They will learn that they are braver than they thought they were, that their team is more important than any member acting alone, and that God is bigger than most people say He is.
Who is Maxwell anyway? What are you willing to sacrifice for the Maxwells in your life?