Baby Boomer Generation: Goodbye Old Friend (Text Version)

There was uneasy silence last evening as we spent the first night alone without our friend and protector. Maxwell passed away on Saturday morning, one week short of his 15th birthday.

Max was born in the fall of 1991 and soon demonstrated that Weimeraners are exactly as advertised - headstrong, manipulative, intensely loyal and protective. He spent a great deal of his early days in a crate and, many hours in obedience school learning to control his Weimie exuberance. When his original family had a child, Max needed to find a new home - and he found Jan.

It wasn't long before Jan learned Max didn't like the crate, and he demonstrated his amazing powers of escape over it. He destroyed two proving his persistence made the crate a moot point. A fenced dog run was next- it only slightly slowed him down. Max 3, Jan 0. The electric fence was a nifty compromise. Max could go wherever he wanted in the expansive yard and he developed a healthy respect of the collar in literally minutes. For ten years, he never tried going over the fence and to our knowledge was shocked only once. Jan 1, Max 3.

I have to say that above all, Max was polite. He never whined; never begged at the dinner table. He never barked to go out or made himself a nuisance about the things he wanted. BUT, he had "The Stare." At 5 pm every day, Max would plant himself directly in your field of view and stare at you. As if to say, "you know what time it is, now get up and feed me."

If he needed to go out, he would sit and stare at the front door. If he needed something else (less obvious) he would sit in front of the TV and stare at you - blocking just enough of the screen to make his presence known.

Weimies were bred to be versatile hunting dogs as well as companions, so he craved being with his humans. The 9pm stare meant, "I'm tired, let's go to bed." He so routinely stared at the box of dog cookies that we devised an experiment. Was it the box of cookies or the concept of the cookie box? We tried moving the box to another corner of the kitchen to see. Sure enough, Max stated at the same old place, cookie box or not. We surmised he knew the box had moved, but to make things clear to his stupid humans, it was simply easier for him to just point to the same old place.

Early on, Max employed "The Stare" at the side of the bed. Sure, he had his own comfy plaid bed complete with a cushy sleeping bag, but "The Stare" meant he wanted more and Jan was no match. Soon, he was occupying whatever space he wanted in the bed - where he stayed until just recently when getting into the bed became impossible for him.

Max demonstrates "The Stare." It must be close to dinner time.

I have to admit it was love at first sight for Max and me. Perhaps he was most comfortable with two humans - something left over from his early upbringing - but for whatever reason, I was immediately accepted into Maxwell's world.

My past history with dogs never prepared me for Max. He had his own way of doing things, and I was just another end to his doggie means. Another human to follow around, another human to take him for walks and, another human to play with - and manipulate. I was a willing participant.

Max wouldn't chase a thrown ball or play tug of war - he had his own games. Take his pool game, for example. Weimies are supposed to love the water, but Max didn't like getting wet - and wouldn't jump in the pool after a ball. But that didn't stop him from inventing his own game. When people were in the pool, he would run nervously around the edge until someone threw the ball OUT of the water. He would dutifully retrieve it, walk to the deep end and gently drop the ball INTO the water, then wait for the game to start again.

Max knew several words: cookie, walk, car ride - and (don't say this one out loud) GOPHER! We live in the country and the groundhog population (prior to Max' arrival) was substantial. After his arrival, we would regularly see whole gopher families packing their belongings and moving out. He was a relentless gopher hunter.

He also had several encounters with the cows, who would often escape their pasture and wander into Maxwell's realm - the yard. Most of the time his barking was just an early warning signal that the cows had escaped. We'd round them up and herd them back into the barnyard. One spring day however, a cow found herself face to face with Max. Most of the time they ignored his frantic barking, but this cow, with calf in tow, was having nothing to do with it. She put her head down, snorted and made an aggressive move toward Max. His reaction - roll over on his back and play dead. I didn't think surrender was in his breeding.

The last few years, Max mellowed out. The gophers had gone, the cows stayed in the pasture - all that was left was the occasional jogger or dog-walker passing the house.

This is my favorite shot of Max; it captures his true personality. Jan's son, was home from school because of an illness. I'd like to think Max was being vigilant over his sick friend. Truth is, he didn't often share his couch - apparently he made an exception just this once.

Max and his two dog buddies developed an early warning system. Woody, the Jack Russell next door would announce the presence of something to bark at, which would alert Max (asleep in his chair on the front porch), who would in turn alert Porkchop, the dog one house down. For dog-walkers especially, it was highly organized territorial gauntlet of about 100 yards.

I'll miss him demanding attention by putting his head in my lap and nuzzling my hand for a pat. I'll miss him staring at the cookie box. I'll miss him warming my feet on a cold night. Most of all, I'll miss him following just a step behind - always interested in what I'm doing, always willing to give comfort, never failing to please.

Update: Monday, 7am. I spotted a groundhog in the back yard today. I think I saw him signaling the "all clear."

I'm sorry Max is gone. You wrote so lovingly of him that I know he had a wonderful life with you. I lost my English Springer Spaniel Samantha in February of this year. At thirteen she had become a sickly old lady. It was so hard to hasten her death, but I did it anyway. She'd seen me through two moves, a death in the family, a broken leg and cancer. I miss her just as you do Max.

I am so sad about Max, probably because I know that my Annie's time is coming soon. Max and Annie have so much in common. Squirrel is Annie's nemesis. She also has quite a vocabulary. Go Byebye is her favorite. Yes, I talk babytalk to her. Anyway, I feel your pain.

Im so sorry for your loss. Reading your article I have tears running down my cheeks. Losing your best friend is so difficult and leaves a void. 3 years after losing my friend,of 12yrs, Jake the thought can still bring me to tears. I have a border collie I love immensley ..but still miss my Jake. May the memories keep you warm and a smile on your face.

It's always upsetting to lose a friend who gives so much and asks for so little and even more, demands nothing. My condolences. Good thing there's gophers and cow's and yards w/no fences in heaven!

I'm soooo sorry about your loss. It was comforting to ready your story and laugh out loud to your history with Max. Until someone has a dog, its hard to understand the unconditional love between a human and their dog child. I lost my Champ this past February, almost 15 yrs himself. I miss the little things but I'm grateful for the time we had. Be sure to share other stories of Max as time goes by. It'll make you and us smile.

So sorry for your loss. He sounded like a great dog. We lost our Sam ( the best dog ever) - a golder retreiver 2 yrs. ago after 11 wonderful yrs. Now we have Jackson a black lab - two. He's sweet and needy and also was a houdini with the crate; he had some large paws to fill tho.

I am sorry to hear about Max. It sounds like Max brought you and your family so much joy. It's neat how dogs are so childlike, always looking to give comfort and love. May the wonderful memories live on in your heart and mind forever!

Your story brought tears to my eyes. I just had to put my precious "Murphy", a Maltese, down after 11 yrs. I can't seem to pull myself together and it's been a month. I brought his ashes home and keep him under the pillow next to me. I still can't bring myself to look at the box. He was the love of my life. The pain I feel is just so overwhelming. I have no desire to get another dog as I'm in my late 50's and don't want any animal to be alone as I continue to work. Your story was so comforting.

I agree - we've talked about another dog, but frankly nothing will ever replace Max.

When Max had his first siezure a couple of months ago, we had to start thinking about the day we would have to make a decision for him.

I suppose the same advice is appropriate. I'm sure we'll know when it's time to honor Max by allowing another dog into our lives.

I am so sorry for your loss. It's as hard as losing a family member. I lost my 16 and a half year old toy poodle last year after having her with me throughout her life. Even after a year, I still miss her.

Just discovered your site and read the sweet tribute to your dog Max. As a guardian to 6 rescues, it hit home. Instead of reading further on your site right now I think I'll tell my dogs how much I love them. Thanks.

Peter, sorry to hear about your Max. I can understand a bit of how you must feel, because our standard poodle Max is a true member of our family, too. I hope you can find a new dog someday, who can share your love as much as Max did.

Max is a major identity in my book. Also the loss of a dog is in there - Karma. I had not felt particularly attached to animals until the loss of Karma. I, too, am sorry for your loss Peter.

So sorry to hear about your Dog, Peter, and it reminds me to do a story about how the human brain can help us to get through the tough stuff in ways that quite surprised me at first.

What a fine looking dog and you can just see the fun and friendship wraped up in that little package. Stay blessed, Ellen

When did they extend the Baby Boomer years passed the original years? The Baby Boomer Years when I grew up were 1947 - 1957. That is also what was taught in History Class. Ten years after WWII was the original definition of a Baby Boomer.

Thanks for sharing such a beautifully poetic eulogy for Max. Those of us who share our lives with companion animals can feel the sadness you felt at losing Max, but also feel the joy you felt all your years of living with Max. Thanks again for sharing.....it reminded me of a couple old buddies of mine, Caleb (cat) and Tucker (dog). i'm not looking forward to losing Britta (dog, 6 y/o) and Luke or Leah (cats, 8 y/o), but all do pass and make room in our live for others.

My Westie was a Max, too. I know the incredible love you feel and the awful awful loss.
When my husband passed away this Spring someone said to me, "I know how you feel. I recently lost my dog." I must have looked at her cross-eyed or something and she added, "Oh, I realize it's not the same."
But, you know, a dog is part of you and part of your family and when they die they take a big chunk of you with them. This is similar to a husband, except a dog never expects a BJ when you're not in the mood.

Your tribute to Max brought back memories of Casey, a Samoyed we had for only two years when he died unexpectedly. We had two Samoyeds before Casey but they both took a shine to my wife and I was only tolerated. Casey was MY dog. He loved me and I loved him. When he passed I was devastated. I grieved for him for long time and thought that I could never, ever get another dog. A year ago my wife brought home Ziggy. Ziggy liked me. Every morning my wife says: here goes the "love connection". We wrestle on the bed and push and shove, get dresssed and go for a walk. Ziggy is my new best friend and, although there will never be another Casey, Ziggy loves me just the same.
I sorry for the pain you feel now but know there's more love to be had. A new dog doesn't replace your old friend but all the good times and feelings can be had again, when, sometime in the future, another "Max" walks into your life.

I too have had many loving, trusting, loyal dog friends and family members. I know how you feel.

Thank you for sharing your experience which many if not all of us share with you.

Liked your story on MAX..........just lost my best friend COSMO a male Great Pyrenees....similar story......what Max would like you to do, as my COSMO would is.......go buy another one....you will have another great story to tell of your new friend...it works....I have been there 6 times....which we could do the same with people .
Kind Regards
Doug Jansen Sydney AUSTRALIA

Even though this artice was going on 2 months ago i know you still feel the pain of losin such an old friend but i just wanted to let you know reading your story brought tears to my eyes im such a dog lover and my pomeranian is going on 13 years old so i know it will be nhala's time soon its really hard losing a pet and this will be my second i just wanted to let you know that im truly sorry your max is no longer here but i gurantee when its our time they'll come greeting like it was yesterday that they saw us.

Pete,
Thank you for sharing a bit of "Max" with us. Even after 15 years, sharing a story of my dog always brings a huge smile to my face and a very warm feeling inside.
Take care,
GeorgeAnn

I'm happy for you that you had the chance to know Max, and am very sorry for your loss. I've had 3 Weims over the past 20 years, Nightie, Bart and now Rudy. Each has been incredibly special and loved. They can a be challenging breed at times, but [IMHO] they have such unique and wonderful personalities, incredible loyalty and devotion to their family members. Your memories of Max will always be with you.

Yes, its tough but you gave the dog the best any dog would dream of "A Best Friend"

I am sorry for your loss. I too have recently lost my best friend and companion, Gunnar, also a weimeraner. What is most important is that we focus on the joy they brought into our lives and not the loss we have experienced. They truly are a most wonderful breed; I would have no other. Weimeraners dont belong to us, we belong to them. Forever.

Boy this wasn't what I was looking for but I of course had to read the entire, well written, thoroughly felt story...and now I too am crying - for your loss and my future loss.

What a beautiful story. For all of us who treasure our pups, thank you. I know Max was grateful to find you both as well.

I understand just what you are saying. I finally replaced my Lab that was with us for 16 years with a mut from the pound and I'm so glad that I did. When he came into our life, you couldn't even pet him.....now he is the biggest baby around because he knows he safe....and so are we.