He was a big brown dog. No particular breed, just a big brindle boisterous dog. Back in 1995, some friends were moving away and couldn't take him. They offered him to us, and we couldn't say no to him. At eighteen months old he became an instant part of the family, and our three children spoiled him rotten. Whatever happened at home, Max was in the middle of it, with his lop-sided ears and always a big smile. He would do anything for you, especially if you had food. He thought teeth were purely for eating carrots and smiling with, and he was an object lesson for people - he never showed us a bad mood, just trust and a huge sense of fun.
It was hard the last couple of years to see him slow down and get grey around the chops. The children are in their twenties and have left home, but the first thing they did when they came back for a visit was lie on the floor and snoodle with Max. He became blind and deaf, but he still knew who was tickling his ears.
Yesterday, at the age of seventeen, he died. Anyone with a dog will tell you that he was much more than just an animal. He was a member of our family, and it was a privilege to have enjoyed his company for so long.
