Max – my beautiful boy was a rescue dog. At 18 months / 2 years, he stood tall and proud at about 1 mtr. He used to try to sit and gently rest his head on our kitchen table and look up with his soft and intelligent brown eyes. Now I wished we had not stopped him begging at the table.
So many years on, so many fond memories, so soft, so, so, intelligent and kind. He was beaten as a pup before we rescued him and still he never had a bad bone in his body.
I remember vividly the day we went to rescue a Labrador Cross “puppy” from the animal shelter in Dublin. The guy in charge said that the puppy we were looking for was at the end of the run of cages and that he only had another 24 hrs to be adopted. As we walked down the run, I turned to my wife and said, “oh, he must be behind that enormous dog there” – but guess what, he was “The enormous Dog”. When Max bounded out of the pen and jumped up to his full height and put both paws onto my wife’s shoulders, he had both of us sold.
We had the best 13 years of our lives with Max and he now resides under an Oak Tree in the garden keeping watch over us from where he used to survey the garden from the shade.