Farewell Good Friend

Friday was a very sad day for me. My mom called and told me our beloved dog, Max, passed away. He was OLD - we're still in debate exactly how hold he was, but he was 15 or 16 years old. He had a good life, and he served our family well. You never think about a dog's duty until they are gone and you remember all the things they did or were a part of.

We got Max on a sunny afternoon during the school year, I believe I was in 7th grade. I remember getting off the school bus and sitting in my driveway was an adolescent (11 month old) German Shepherd....Just sitting in the middle of our 200 ft drive way in the country. I immediately stopped and called for my dad to come "save" me. No one answered. The dog continued to sit in the middle of the driveway. So, I sat down at the top of our driveway, waiting for my dad to come rescue me from the beast. FINALLY after a while my dad appeared out behind the pump house, laughing, telling me to say "hi" to our new family dog, "Max".

Max was wonderful! He was friendly and energetic and LOVED to fetch. He LIVED for fetching the ball. My dad had found him in a newspaper ad "Free to good home" - purebred German Shepherd. The previous owners didn't treat him well as he was terribly thin and very timid. They, thankfully, had to get rid of him because they lived in an apartment that allowed "small dogs". Last time I checked a 90 lb dog is anything but small. So that is how Max became part of our family.

We almost lost him that year. He decided that our neighbor's flock of geese were pretty fun to chase and um...Kill. We did everything to try to stop him. That included taking the advice of our elderly neighbor who told us that tying the dead goose around his neck for a few days would cure his desire to go after them. UGH! It was AWFUL. But nothing stopped Max. He kept killing them. That spring we had the worst flood of all time. Our driveway had been completely wiped out by rain run off. One of the utility trucks got stuck at the top of our driveway and while they waited for towing assistance, we started to talk with him. He of course complimented Max and we told him that if he wanted him, then he could have him because he had issues against the feathered friends. The man welcomely accepted our offer and told us he would come back the next day to pick him up.

The next day the man came, with his daughter in tow, with a brand new leash and collar to pick up the dog. I begged and pleaded to let us give him ONE MORE CHANCE. Thankfully my parents agreed. The man and his daughter were terribly disappointed but we promised that if he killed ONE MORE GOOSE, we would be giving them a call. Max never touched another goose.

It even got to the point where the geese would be on our back deck, and Max would just lie there, without lifting an eye.

Until... I was 18ish years old. (it HAD to have been at LEAST 5 years later). Audra and I don't share too many fond memories together but we did have one very funny bonding moment over this dog. I came home one summer night, it was probably about 10:30 at night. I went in the house and Audra immediately started knocking on my bedroom door. With sibling rivalry at its best, of couse I pushed her away, until she whispered "Max killed a goose! we have to bury it!"

We still remembered nearly losing Max and knew if our parents ever found out, that would be it for Max. In reality though, there was NO way we'd EVER get rid of him at that point but we were young and we remembered those solemn words our 'rents told us. Audra had found the goose that day and put it in a black garbage bag and hid it in one of the sheds - waiting for me to get home. SO there we were, digging an inconspicuous hole in the middle of the night, like two criminals trying to cover up their murderous crime. We never uttered a word to ANYONE about it until 3 years ago when Robert and I came home for Thanksgiving. We were recounting the tale of Max's young killing spree and my mom had said he hadn't touched a goose since. Audra and I sort of glanced in each other's direction..."well mom...there's something we never told you about...." My mom was APPALLED. We laughed and laughed about it. But, it was like Max's ONE LAST HOORAH before he decided that he was no longer in the business of killing geese.

2 years ago, our friends approached us, wanting their GSD, Australian Shepherd, Blue Heeler dog to have a litter of pups before they spayed her. In their eyes a female "Whatever" should go through the natural events to complete her as a dog, cat, horse, whatever. Max had never been fixed when we got him and since we lived out in BFE, having an in-tact male was never an issue. My mom suggested Max as the father and they agreed. I remember my mom calling me telling me that Max and Blue had "Done it" and we were all so excited. I really wanted a Max puppy to raise my children with. June 30 the puppies were born. I was there to witness it. I picked out a little puppy that had two white socks and after 4 hours of life was nursing and wagging its tail, not really even aware that its little cute tail was wagging away. Before the puppies were born, we had found homes for ALL of them because everyone in our neighborhood wanted a Max/Blue puppy.

I have Max, Reincarnated. Scout is very much like his dad. Wonderful temperament, loves to be a part of the family, and lives to fetch the ball. His eyes are the very same as Max's, gentle, calm, kind.

So Friday my mom called and described Max's last days. He was old, his hips were arthritic, he had started to lose control of his continence, but it didn't stop him from continuing to discipline the two puppies my mom had of "his", or carry the tennis ball, that he once exuberantly chased after, or climb up the flight of stairs to sleep outside my mom's bedroom at night. Tuesday night he no longer could make it up the steps and I think that is when he gave up. Wednesday he laid on a makeshift blanket that my mom made for him in the living room but she knew the end was approaching. Thursday he stopped eating and went downhill fast. My mom's friend Jennifer came over to help and provide support. Max resisted letting go but my mom sat by him, comforting him, telling him that we all loved him and we'd be ok with out him. She said his ears perked up at the sound of each one of our names. He finally passed on Thursday night. I cried when I found out the news, I cried all day long, I am still crying, typing these words.

He was one of the best dogs I have ever met in this world. Scout is a close second, but I will never forget Max.

Max, we love you, always. Thank you good friend

Max and Macie - June 2006

Same kid, different dog June 2007