We had to put Max to sleep yesterday and though I’m happy she is no longer in pain, the utter silence left in her absence is mind-jarring.
From the time we’d drive into the drive-way she’d be barking like a lunatic, only to crescendo into full-fledged coronary status once we made it up the basement stairs.
Of course she defended the house from the mail-man, fed-ex guy, and garbage men on a daily basis.Ã‚Â Threatening children and old ladies also got the treatment when brave enough to darken our door. But she was really a big baby overall.
My day always revolved around her in some way–even before we had kids, I lived five minutes for work at the University of Pittsburgh so it was me who scheduled her walks into the day.
Then ten years, two kids, new house, part-time work from home status, and Maxy’s cancer diagnosis later, my day was punctuated by taking Max to the bathroom every two to three hours.
Yesterday was shocking in how many times my mind went to Max and what I needed to do to take care of her (If I leave now, I have to back at ____ time to let her out, etc.)–how much I thought of her on an hour by hour basis repeatedly startled me as though I hadn’t been aware of how much I had worked around her.
She was the sweetest dog ever.Ã‚Â I know everyone thinks they have the best dog, but Max was, sweet in every way and we miss her.
I’m glad we had the chance to say goodbye to her. We took lots of pictures with the kids and they got to decide what Maxy needed to take with her to Heaven–the bear my sister gave her when she was sixÃ‚Â weeks old.
And, when she finally died, with the bear under her chin, laying on a comfortable blanket she looked just as she always did when sleeping in that curled up way.Ã‚Â
Peaceful and happy.