Remembering Max
from his Mom, Laura Kelley
This is a tribute to my beautiful golden boy, Max, who died at the age of 12 from complications of a heart tumor on May 17, 2003.
It was June 25, 1991, when I brought Max and his sister Jesse home from the barn in Belchertown where they had been born nearly 7 weeks before. It was my first time as a dog owner, my first time as a raiser of pups, and it was ... double trouble! But I survived puppyhood -- and so did they! Right from the start, Max had the training thing down. He never once used the indoors as his 'bathroom' (unlike Jesse, who thought it was a bother to go outside during her first few months). He understood and accepted the word "no" almost immediately, as he was a pleasure to train for commands and to walk calmly on a leash. All in all, Max was the perfect puppy (save for a few chewing incidents we won't go into here).
Each morning, he and Jesse would fight over who got to sit in Mom's lap on the kitchen floor before breakfast. Max would win that battle many mornings, and even if Jesse got there first he would try to get in my lap along with her; some mornings it was quite crowded! When I would get home from work, we would go in the backyard and play before dinner. Chasing rocks and sticks was a favorite sport, although the occasional tennis ball would also do. Bedtime was fun -- my husband, Max, Jesse and I, all in a queen-sized bed. Max didn't care for the movement of the feet under the blankets and would growl quite often should an errant foot move slightly. Max spent many nights on the floor contemplating how he might better behave with feet! After about 8 years, he grew out of that phase.
Max was a huge "cuddler". For him, nothing compared with snuggling with Mom or having his belly scratched (ideally, he preferred both things simultaneously). Bedtime was synonymous with snuggle time -- and beware "The Paw" if you didn't comply immediately! My sister-in-law suffered a lack eye during a dog-sitting visit for having the audacity to fall asleep while petting Max in bed! Max demanded attention and lot of it, and woe to the person who ignored him. Besides "The Paw", Max had an arsenal of ways to command your attention. He had a series of distinct, ear-piercing, heart-stopping, high-pitched barks that would stop you in your tracks no matter what you might be doing. A good example of this: when I would be doing the dishes -- for some reason, Max did not want me washing dishes (perhaps because my back was to him?) and would quietly stand in the middle of the kitchen floor.... and then start stomping his feet and "yipping" at me. I thought I would have heart failure each time. Patience was not one of his virtues when he wanted attention. Max would NOT be ignored!
Max had a stuffed blue dinosaur that he loved. It was made from the "Chew Man" faux sheepskin material. He would carry it around with him after meals. At bedtime, he could carry it into bed with him. Other toys would sometimes get chewed to shreds (he was devilish in his younger years and at times he would shred toys or his blanket), but the dinosaur lasted with him until the day he died. He loved his dinosaur. Other things that Max loved: riding in the car, going for walks, people, Wendy's chicken nuggets, sleeping on the couch, barking at people walking by the house, Bailey the little dog next door, breakfast time, supper time, beddy time, his Mom and Dad, Jesse... and the list could go on.
For twelve years, Max was by my side. He was my best friend. He was with me through many life-altering events. He saw me through a strange, stressful job situation when MassMutual sold our division to Wellpoint Health Networks. He was my rock and a shoulder to cry on when John and I got divorced in 1996. He was still my main guy when Danny and Casey (The Pomeranian terrorist) moved in. He kept me clam going into my second marriage when Danny and I tied the knot in 1998. He helped me through the recuperation from a bad car accident in January 2000; and he eased my grief and pain when my father died in February that year. Max was with me through it all and always loved me unconditionally. I could always count on him to be there when I needed him, and every day in-between.
And so.. time flies... and in the blink of an eye, my silly little puppy was a sweet old dog. The Swiss have a saying about the lifespan of dogs. They say, "Three years a young dog, three years a good dog, three years an old dog... and three years a gift from God." My Max was twelve years a gift from God and I am thankful for every second. I could never have asked for a better dog, not in a million years. I consider myself so very lucky to have been Max's Mom. Danny and I are blessed to have had him in our lives. We both miss him terribly, as does his sister (and partner-in-crime) Jesse.
Max, we love you and miss you. We will see you again, my friend. Be patient!
Laura Kelley
