Not a Political Post

Today’s post is not political, rather a far more personal one as the brightest, shiniest light in my life has been dimmed. Yesterday I walked Mighty Max to the Rainbow Bridge on his 14th birthday.

I am filled with profound grief and sadness. I haven’t known for a very long time, just how heavy my heart could feel.

He was my steady companion all these years. I am hoping that by writing my thoughts I will be able to rejoice in the joy he brought me every single day (well, not every day!), each filled with one magical and insane adventure after another.

As a puppy, he managed one day to eat all remotes. Not just the tv remote, but all remotes. One day he shredded a $100 bill, it was the last $100 I had to my name. And on another, while I was gone for only a few hours, I returned to find every cushion on the sofa and loveseat ripped to shreds —- both fabric and foam.

Then there was the digging and burying. Can’t find my car/house keys after searching high and low? Ahh yes. The backyard. I would look for a spot that had fresh soil. And ta da —- there they were, buried six inches below. He once buried my phone.

He was very social. He would burst through the gates of the dog park, coming in hot. Then would move from one dog to another, giving them kisses and head bumps. And then, just as the Pied Piper, would start running through the park followed by a long string of canines in a snaking line.

His lifelong quest was to rid the planet of all cats and squirrels. He worked it and spent serious time attempting to sharpen his craft. Although he was never able to actually catch his prey, it was not for a lack of trying.

He loved, loved, loved the beach. Not for the water, of course, despite being a water dog with webbed feet, but because it was a seemingly endless playground filled with ground squirrels and other creatures. And smells. Endless smells.

Max lived for our walks. Most days, so did I. For many years he pulled me behind him, moving quickly, as if he had a meeting to attend and was late. He showed purpose. But over the last year he pulled a little less spending more time gaining pleasure sniffing every blade of grass, every leaf, every brick, every concrete block and of course, fire hydrants.

He was my protector and a grand one at that. He was my security system I fed and walked every day. He did not allow anyone near me without his permission, including my sister, who when opening the door to her own home, was greeted with growls and barks. That is, until he recognized who he was terrorizing.

Our last and greatest adventure was our road trip from Southern California to Washington, DC, where I put down new roots. It took almost a month. We traveled through 8 states, stopping in all but Alabama (on purpose). We spent close to 3 weeks in Texas with my siblings, had crawfish, walked through City Park and watched local lads gather together to jam in New Orleans.

We stayed in some nasty motels along the way and encountered massive, torrential and dangerous rain falls. All the while, my Sweet Max sat like a trooper in the back seat, taking it all in, serving as my faithful Emotional Support Companion.

Max lived life according to his own rules. Sure he would sit on command, but only when food was involved. And come when he was called —- sometimes. He could be very bossy. But in the end, I always obeyed. Always.

Over time, and without much fanfare, his black, velvety face became more frosty, as did his muzzle, his eyelashes and even his eyebrows.

Having Max by my side meant I was living eternally in a judgement-free zone. No one to impress. He was going to be there no matter what.

And now he isn’t. He will no longer be here for any of it.

We ascribe human behavior to dogs. We include them in almost every daily event. We talk to them in complete sentences, ask their opinions, seek their counsel, make sure they are comfortable, feed them the best food and treats, brush them, bathe them, hug them and kiss them, treating them like we would our family and/or best friends. Because in the end, they are just that. Which is why all of this is so incredibly difficult.

For awhile I will be looking for him in the backseat, or the front door awaiting my return, or in the yard taking in all the sights and sounds (and other pups) in his new hood, or the back yard stretched out on the brick pato soaking up the nice warm sun, or in the kitchen holding out hope there are scraps of food on the floor, or in the living room, on his dog bed, or lying by my side, or snuggled up on my bed.

But he won’t be there.

But for now: May the flights of dog angels sing thee to thy rest, across the beautiful Rainbow Bridge, my always Forever Friend. You will never grow old, you will never know pain, and you will be surrounded by all the love you deserve.

If you have stories to share about your dog, or have dog photos, please post them.