My dad woke me up this morning with news that the vet had called. "Max passed away from a blood clot." My springer spaniel that i've had since I was 11, when my dad, sister, and cousin Jenny went to pick him out, had passed on. Max Jr. was hit accidentally by my dad while he was driving on New Years Eve. We thought Max was lucky since all he sustained in the accident was a dislocated hip, which was placed back together by our vet, and a cracked pelvis; unfortunately, Max was called away from this world to another world. Max Jr. was my friend for 13.5 years. Max was the one who licked my nose when we picked him up at the local farm who was selling newly born puppies, my gift for my 11th birthday. We picked Max over all the rest. We brought Max home after our annual fishing trip to the Lake of the Woods and I still remember how much joy and happiness it gave me letting Max sleep in our house that night. I remember Max who would wait for with my sister and I at the end of the drivewaywith us in the morning for the school bus and Max who would keep looking back over his shoulder in the afternoon waiting for us to come home. For some reason Max knew at about what time we should be coming home. I remember Max who I was worried deeply about when I went to bible camp when I was 11 and I prayed for his safety and I remember Max who had his head sleeping on his paws and lifted his head up when my sister and I came home at the end of that week, Max who was so glad to see us ran right up to us. I remember Max who hated to go to the vet's and I would always treat him with an ice cream cone from Dairy Queen more often than not on those trips home. I remember Max who I was always glad to see when I came home from school, from work, from town. Max who would always walk right up to the car after the car stopped to greet me. I remember Max who would go on walks with me down the road and take a dip inside of the water on the side. I remember Max who my nieces and nephew loved to play with and who knew Max their entire life. Little Kenny telling Max as he petted him "that's a good boy." Rose who would go outside and we would tell her no not without an adult, "I just want to pet Maxy."

But as Max grew on in years Max began to have arthritis and walking and going up and down steps made it more difficult for Max. Max's eye sight began to get worse and worse and his hearing also became worse and worse. You could sneak right up next to him and he wouldn't know it until you were petting him that you were with him. Max who gave us a scare when he had a bump on his head two years ago and we thought surely was cancer; but, was merely a doggy pimple. Max who had a near run in with our tractor two summers ago.

I have so many memories and good thoughts of Max and today is the most difficult day in our friendship. Having to decide if I wanted to keep his dog sweater and collar (I kept both), did I want some of Max's fur to save? I said no. When Max was laid to rest, thought that maybe I did want to after all; but, was too late. Did I want to say something my dad asked me as my brother and I stood by the grave we made for him. I said no, I didn't know what to say. I don't know what tomorrow will bring me; but, I know that it won't be the same since my best friend now is only going to be a memory. No longer will Max be waiting for me at the end of the day, no longer will Max be able to come with me for an occasional drive into town, no longer will Max enjoy a cool dip in the summertime heat, no longer will Max get to enjoy an ice cream cone from the D.Q., no longer will he be able to play with my nieces and nephew. He would never get to play with my kids that someday I will have, never meet the wife that I will someday marry, never move with me to a different home then from the one that i've called so for all these years.

I've been told that God only gives you what you can handle and nothing more. I'm comforted by the thought that someday my best friend and I will meet once more and no longer will Max be a memory.