The Book of Max, Chapter 4

Max bounced right back after his brief vacation at the vet. It took a few days for his voice to come back though. He had essentially barked for two straight days while he was away from home. He hated kennels. His kidney problems lingered in the back of our minds, but Sparky and I tried to keep it from worrying us too much. So the legend of Max continued.

If you listened to his crazy people (Sparky & I), you would learn that he was quite the well rounded dog. We had many stories about Max's unknown past. His occupations had included a chef - he used his front paws to stir and taste; a lock-picker - you would be amazed at how many doors the little guy could open, a carpenter, a poker player and a pirate.

However, his most important job was being the Defender of the Universe. We had a song about him killing evil cats, etc. I know what you're thinking...nerds.

BatMax

We would also tell the story about Max's rough and tumble life on the streets of KC. He smoked cigars and got in his fair share of fights when he had been drinking. I think some of this came about because Max actually did have a tattoo. We (actually) believe he was inked by a puppy mill.

Nothing like a good stogey.

One day Sparky created a brilliant song about how Max spent time as Blackbeard's first mate. During the climax of the story, Max lit his tail with a candlestick, jumped in the ocean and led a ship through a horrible storm (not so sure about the logistics on that one). Unfortunately, we laughed too hard for too long to write it down and forgot most of it.

Yeah - so we are nerds.

In reality (we're not crazy all the time), Max became involved in every part of our day. We always spent a few minutes with him and Flynn in the morning; he would "clean" my egg plate after breakfast; Sparky and I would both come home for lunch as often as possible to hang out with the pups; Max would be at the door barking for us when we got home and at night, he would call "couch time"- meaning it was time for Sparky and I to sit on the couch so he could snuggle between us. At about 9:30 he would let us know it was bed time by fidgeting around on the couch or, if necessary; jumping off the couching, walking to the stairs and intermittently staring up them and then over at us.

Max with his BFFs Reyse & Kramer.

I could go on and on telling you about all the things we came to adore about Max - his mind bullets - a tool he would use to get doors to open or to try to tell us what he wanted; how he would "turn on the cute" for a treat; his nicknames (Maximus, Maximoose, Moose, Monkey, Poopbutt); how he drank his water in rhythm; his dribbling problem (FloMax was another nickname); his love of all things pork/ham/bacon based but I think you get the picture. He loved and was loved.