In Memory of Max

This is a picture of my younger brother and our boxer Max when we first brought him home. Ricky spent a lot of sleepless nights with Max as he was getting used to his new home. We all loved Max.

Max was a protector. My date for prom snuck into the back yard to ask me and Max started barking up a storm. Somehow (and luckily for my date), Max stopped barking. Max was good with children. He would play with nieces when they were toddlers and never get rough with them. He's understanding of them being smaller was incredible. I loved seeing him leap (like a deer) from the back bushes of our house when we called him. If we dared say the word "walk" he would bolt to the front gate and wait for us. We learned that if Max was in hearing distance we needed to spell W-A-L-K instead of say it. Max had a food dance that he started at the mention of food and happily engage in as his food was brought to him.

As I came home through the years, I could see how much he was aging. Coming home for Christmas and seeing him was the hardest. He was all gray in the face. My dad had said that he could no longer hear (birds and cats would walk right in front of him without care) and the tumors (that Boxers are prone to) had increased significantly. He was longer able to support his body on all fours. His "standing" was more so him putting all of his weight on his hinds legs without completely sitting down. He was skinny. Though he was eating, the tumors were literally sucking the life out of him. My mom and I had gone out shopping one day and Nic called me: "Babe, I came out and looked at Max's tumors and they're really bad. He really needs to be put down. He's suffering." I began crying and told him I didn't want to talk about it. Putting Max down was a discussion no one in the family wanted to have, but I think in the back of our minds we all knew it was time.

Today, my parents put Max down. He was 15 years old, which is the equivalent to 76 years in human years. They took Max to the vet and the doctor said he lived a good life, but it was time. The vet explained to my dad and older brother that even if they were to remove all his tumors, it was no guarantee that all the cancer would be gone. My dad and brother were able to stay with Max right up until they were to begin the procedure.

Farewell Max. We love you and you will never be forgotten.

*Editors Note: I called my younger brother after I posted this blog. He told me that he ended up going (he originally planned on not going. He said it was going to be too hard for him) and sitting with Max in the back of my dad's truck to make sure he didn't jump out. He said Max didn't even consider it. He just rested his head on my brother's shoulder and then Max lay his head in my brothers lap (I didn't say his to my brother, but I think Max knew it was time. He was enjoying the final ride with his best buddy). When they got to the vet, my dad went in and my brother got Max out. Max stood by his side until the vet brought a leash. They were all able to say one final good-bye and then they took him away. Max will truly be missed.