Happy 8th Birthday to Max

Every year, I struggle to put into words what Max means to me.  Imagine, if you will, a person in your life, if you are lucky enough to have one, who gets you, really really gets you, more than anyone else.  Someone who knows exactly how to make you laugh and who can make you cry by the mere thought of them being in pain or unhappy.  Someone who you can just look at and read each other’s minds, you know each other that well.  You don’t always see eye to eye but in the heart, where it counts, you are one.  That’s Max for me.

He is not the perfect conformation dog.  He is not the perfect agility dog.  He is certainly not the perfect obedience dog. LOL!  But we’ve had success in each venue because we are both stubborn and we work well as a team.  Max is a study in contrasts.  The days where he was alternately humping my leg, lunging at the other beardies, and barking at me while waiting outside the show ring were the days he showed like a million bucks and walked away with the win.  The agility courses that I think are completely impossible are the ones he nails and then looks at me as if to say, “You got all worked up over THAT?”  My most barky dog outside the house is the only one who tiptoes around when we want to sleep in and dares not disturb us.  He is like velcro to me in the agility ring, and wants nothing to do with me when I let him run loose on the high school field.

I have a hard time believing there was life before Max, for what kind of life must that have been?  By the same token, I am firmly in denial that there will ever be a life after Max.  It’s simply not possible for my brain to comprehend.

And so, on this 8th day of March, I wish the first love of my life a very happy birthday and remind him again that I expect to celebrate many many more with him.

 

I think I will end with this one every year.  It’s us in a nutshell.