In Memory of Max

Maximan

The tone in the house is so different now. It's hard to believe how one 8 pound miniature pinscher could have such an effect on a house but since he passed away in the morning of December 9, it's so much quieter now. Sure, the other four dogs make plenty of noise when they hear something outside but since Max died in my arms, it's not the same around here.

There's no one to charge the baby gate that separates the living room (our one "dog-free" room) from the kitchen when I walk through it. How proud he was when he managed to rush by the closing gate and enter the forbidden room.

There's no one to attack the cardboard boxes that packages come in, or groceries or pizza. He had quite a grip for a little guy and he hated cardboard boxes as much as he hated gates and closed doors.

But most of all, there's no one to follow me wherever I go. We had a special bond, Max and I. It developed shortly after we adopted him some eight years ago. He was raising hell barking at a delivery man coming to the door, jumping frantically back and forth. I thought it would be impossible to stop him and I bent down to try to grab him before the delivery man rang the bell. But much to my surprise, he jumped right into my arms and stopped barking. Our special relationship began at that moment. And, although he had his quirks, he more than made up for it in the loyalty and love he showed through the years. I hope I deserved that unconditional love. It's not something that will likely come again in my lifetime.

His bold antics and his love will be greatly missed. I love you Mr. Max; you will always be in my heart.

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