Here's the story of our first dog:
MAX'S STORY
We adopted Max in March 1998 from the Edmond Animal Shelter. We had just bought our first house, and were recently married. We knew we wanted a puppy right away, so we visited the Edmond shelter to find us a fur baby. She was the runt of a litter of labs that had been abandoned. She was tiny and was so cute. We picked her out right away and took her home to love her. So her story with us began.
She was so tiny, and boy could she chew. She chewed EVERYTHING. She ate socks, shoes, wood, rugs, etc. When she finally had eaten the support beam for our back porch, we decided that she needed a playmate to keep her company. This is where Cookie enters the picture. Cookie was a ~3 year old cocker spaniel. She and Max had a tough go of it at first (Max was not very accepting), but eventually they became the best of friends. They would play, dig, escape from the yard, and even eat brownies off the coffee table together.
Max loved the new house. She would run and play in the almost half acre backyard. She adored all the room. In December '03 we had a friend who found a litter of puppies on his farm land. We picked one out and brought him home. Enter Jimbo stage right.
At first there was some tension with the dogs, but Jimbo being a puppy helped him to realize that he was most definitely NOT the alpha dog and all learned to get along like the best of friends.
Max and Jimbo would *fight* all day long. They would bite and play and roll around. They loved to chase each other.
Time passed and the three dogs were inseparable. Max was really my dog who would follow me around EVERYWHERE I went in the house. I couldn't get up off the couch without her tagging along. She was my constant companion, and although just touching her fur made me itch like crazy, I loved to pet her head. It was so soft and smooth. I loved to pet her ears the most.
Max was a very happy dog. Always moving, always antsy, always energetic. Never lazy, never one to nap and never one to sit still next to you and cuddle. Naps were difficult for her. She'd close her eyes, but then keep one open and watching you just in case you might get up and try to leave the room. You certainly couldn't sneak away with her in the room.
We noticed something was wrong when she started not eating her dinner. She's always been a little finicky, so it didn't really surprise us when she decided to not eat one day. No worries, we thought. We tried again the next day and still no luck. We bought her some wet dog food the next day and she gobbled it up quickly. We then thought she must just be getting picky, so the following day we tried the dry food again. No luck. We added some water to it (like the old Gravy Train dog food), and she ate it. That worked for about 4 days, then stopped eating again. Finally she just stopped eating even the wet food. I took her in and the vet ran tests.
Turns out she was VERY sick. Running a fever, VERY anemic, and she was being lethargic. They took x-rays and it seems that the doc thought there was something that wasn't normal on her x-ray near the liver. A mass that didn't look normal. I was crushed. We were told to take her to a specialist to get an ultrasound and were given a bunch of meds to give her.
Tried to feed her the next day, but she wouldn't eat (and since she had to have a full stomach to give the meds, I couldn't give it to her). Called the vet Monday and they said to bring her in. When I got home I gave Max as much love and petting as I could. I was crying like crazy because I just knew in my gut that this was it. We cuddled her and took her in. The prognosis was worse than Sat. She was going downhill FAST. We made the painful call. It was the worst thing I've ever had to do. I don't even want to talk about it. I break down in tears just thinking about it.
I'm glad I took some pictures of Max before we took her in.
These are her last photos. She has sad eyes...
She had some annoying habits, and there were times that I wanted to strangle her (who doesn't get frustrated with a dog every now and then?), but she was a good dog. A very good dog.
I'm grateful for the years of unconditional love that she gave us. She never asked for anything in return. We made the right decision. I know she's thankful. Right before she went down, she ate handfuls of biscuits from me. I'd like to think she did it as a way of saying thank you. I miss her incredibly. So do the other two dogs.
Tonight I saw a little bitty lab puppy in Petsmart. Looked JUST like Max. I know everything will be OK...
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