Our dog, Max, passed away in late October. He was 11, almost 12. He was a very good dog. We got him when Emma was a baby, and he was just a month older than her.
He had his crazy puppy moments, eating multiple pairs of shoes, eating siding and drywall, the redwood deck,and ceramic planters, the tubing on our air conditioning unit and attempting the 220 line. He puked up playdoh and ice cream in the house, peed on a fake Christmas tree and Sarah's infant seat.
He loved to run, and jump and play in the Colorado snow. He was teased mercilessly by the backyard squirrels and was very sheepish the one time he caught one.
He was obedient to a level that surprised many. He used to stand outside the open back door, not coming in unless he was invited. Kinda like a vampire, but one who only wants to sniff you and love you.
Max was a horrible walker. He'd pull you the entire time, to the point that your arm would ache afterwards. He loved his backyard realm though. He patrolled faithfully until the weeks before he died.
Max loved to dig. He used to wear down his nails digging holes under bushes.
Max was a great listener. He could often be found listening to all the kids troubles, patiently, sympathetically. He was always gentle with the kids, even if he didn't obey their high pitched yells to go, sit, stay!!
Max loved to eat. He loved apples, carrots, meats, eggs, corn on the cob. Pretty much everything except greens. He used to wait around while Howard was grilling, waiting for something to fall. In fact, while our house was being worked on, he snatched one of the workers lunches one day! He was never food aggressive though.
Max was a very gentle, loving dog. He was never a barker. He just loved his family, loved doing his job to protect us, and loved life.