My beloved dog, Max, was found dead in his doghouse this morning. We think he may have had died in his sleep several days ago.
We got Max as a puppy when I was six or seven years old. He was hard to train, and his breed was difficult to handle. We ended up chaining him up outside for most of his life. My dad told me we'd never get another dog because of Max...but in July my dad got us a Shih Tzu puppy from his best friend's wife's dog shelter. We are training her vigorously so she doesn't end up like poor Max.
While yes, Max was an unbelievably un-trained dog, he was quite the gentle dog at times. When he was younger, he tore up anything in sight. He'd run alongside the car when we'd drive away. Each time I brought him his food, he jumped for joy. I pet him and he pant like nobody's business. Just like each dog, he was stubborn at times and very hyper. As he got older, he was a gentle, kind dog who was sweeter than a drop of syrup. When I was three or four, our old dog Mindy bit me on the face and clawed my arms. I have a scar from it. I was angry at her for accidentally biting my kitten's head and killing it. So I hit her with a stick, and she fought back. I had a bad experience with dogs and so when we got Max, I was sure I'd hate him too. And sometimes, I did. But now, I miss him. I felt bad that I didn't go see him more. He was a sweet dog, who in dog years was in his 70s when he passed away. My dad is out burying him now. Sigh, goodbye Max. Goodbye.
R.I.P Maxwell Edward Ticen
2003-2011
