Max is in Doggy Heaven.

Max

Age 9, ~2002 - August 15, 2011

Max, you are in my heart forever. Run over that bridge, buddy, and enjoy your new body. Love you.

Max, the first weekend with me - his new toy!!

Nickname: Maxie, Sweetsie

Max was a rescue dog, but he truly rescued me in August 2008. He was a "senior" dog, with me being, we thought, his third home. He walked into my home and heart and immediately settled in like he'd always been there.

The first week he was home, I had gone to work in my home office while he continued to sleep on his bed in my room. In a bit I heard him whining and thought maybe he'd caught a toenail in a blanket or something, and went to check. One of my cats had planted herself in the doorway of my bedroom and wouldn't let him out! As soon as I made her move, he came runnng down the hallway, so relieved! A couple mornings later, he was in the kitchen making one of his "help me" whining sounds and I went in - the cat had parked in front of his food and water dishes and wouldn't let him eat. Through the next months, I would watch this 130-pound baby stand at one end of the hallway and not come down because a cat was in the hall, watched him trapped in a room because the cat wouldn't let him out (little did he know, one more step and she'd have run like the wind!). I was teased, especially by my son, that he was "afraid." I would counter with "he's not afraid, he's respectful of their boundaries!!"

He was a big (130+ pounds) dog and came to expect attention since he was usually the biggest dog wherever we went - and he loved it! If someone walked past without stopping to pet him or talk about how big and beautiful he was, you could almost see the confusion, "hey, didn't you see me here? don't you want to pet me or something?" He was one of those dogs any man, woman, child, or other dog could walk up to and expect nothing more than a sniff and hello. One of the things I loved was his calm nature. He rarely barked without a good reason (someone at the door or in the driveway). We'd go for walks and if I stopped, he'd stop and lean against me, and would stand there perfectly still as long as I was rubbing down his back or side. He loved to be touched. He loved to unstuff his "stuffies," pulling the stuffing out and tossing his head to get it off his mouth, then the empty, limp outer toy would become a favorite. Often I'd put his toys in his basket, and turn around to find them laid out in a row beside his bed. I never knew if he was looking for a specific one or just wanted them all out to admire!

As a senior, he came to me with some health issues that we managed for the better part of three years - mostly simple things like arthritis and bad ligaments in his knees. Eventually some kind of neurologic problem set in and he became weaker in his hind legs, and incontinent of stool - as he would rock to get up, he would just "lose" a little. That progressed to him not being able to get outside in time; luckily he never had diarrhea, and honestly the stool was easier to clean up than when his medicine made him urine incontinent!

On Sunday, August 14, 2011, Max fell coming up the ramp I'd had built for him (steps were just beyond his capabilities). We managed to get him back to the yard, and he'd take a couple steps and fall. I took him to my vet, thinking maybe he'd hurt one of his legs in the fall. By Monday morning his front legs started to give out on him and he couldn't stand at all. He was alert, excited to see me and his "other mother" Jenny when she visited, inquisitive about the goings on in the kennel with the other dogs. I had taken his favorite treats and we had a "picnic." He was urinating in his bed, unable to stand at all, and looked so pitiful as they would have to carry him out in slings to change his bed. When the time came that he couldn't empty his bladder and had to be catheterized, he lost his spark... he laid down and was less interactive. He always looked so humiliated when he'd have an accident, and now he had even lost the ability to empty his bladder. When the vet telling me that would likely be a lifelong problem now, I couldnt' make him suffer that indignity - I had to let him go. He is my heart, my love, and even now I look at his bed, dishes, and the last toy he unstuffed Saturday night, and can't put these things away. I know he's healthy, pain free, and watching over him. He's my baby, now and always.