Max was always Mommy's Boy. From that first excited day when Maxwell came into our home, he was drawn to her. It was love at first sight for the both of them, and Mommy just knew how happy everyone would be--including the puppy, Ginger--to have a new friend to play with.

He grew fast and before long, his large body was strong, solid and oh-what-a-handsome boy! Everyone loved Maxwell and while he was often indifferent to all the affection being bestowed upon, him, his devotion to his family deepened and deepened, his sole purpose seemingly to make sure everyone was safe and sound. While Ginger always wanted to romp and play , Max was content to watch over the flock and hold court over the landscape.

Max was a complicated dog, and it took him a long time to learn his housekeeping habits. What a mess the good boy used to make! But his love, companionship and regal nature just made you want to love him all up. Finally, when the family moved to a new house, Maxwell seemed to have everything under control.

Of course, then there were the socks...

Countless socks ingested until one day, Maxwell stopped eating, which was a front page story in itself. Mommy and Daddy knew something was seriously wrong. No food, no water, no trips outside. This was serious, oh yes, it was. Off to the vet we went, and after a few tests and xrays, we learned that Max had a sock lodged in his intestines. We kissed the good boy and sent him off to surgery. After a nervous couple of hours, the vet told us he'd come through with flying colors, but the recovery would be difficult. We did everything we were told to do and in a few weeks, our good boy was his old, happy self again. It had been quite an ordeal, but when our big boy looked in our eyes, all that affection, trust and love so ever-present, we knew he was going to be all right.

And his ears. This poor boy's ears were always giving him problems. Had to do with his lineage, we think. Must have been a long, droopy-eared dog somewhere along the road, causing his big ears to flop down, rather than standing tall like his breed, the Anatolian, usually possesses. So, a lifetime of swabbing, rinsing, cleaning and draining ensued. Mommy was never too tired to help Max with his ears, and he always laid there, trusting her not to cause any pain. Mommy's sensitive touch in treating Maxwell's ears just made the two of them closer.

And those treats! Never has there been a dog who loved his treats more than our good boy! He'd gobble one after another, looking into our eyes with a perfectly frozen stare, all but willing us to reach into the bag for just-one-more-please. We always gave him that extra one, what with having gone through that terrible surgery and his constant ear troubles.

And then he'd march outside with Ginger, and they'd roam around, and while Ginger was the quickest gal on four legs, it was always Max, who could barely lumber around, who'd come home with a rabbit in his mouth. Good thing Joe was there to help us with all the baby rabbits Max would catch! How did he catch all them critters, anyway?...We'll always wonder.

Soon, we moved way upstate in New York and both Ginger and Maxwell The Good Boy flourished. All that land to explore, with privacy and quiet. They would loll on the sloping lawn, Ginger rolling back and forth on her back in the warm sun while Maxwell sat in the shade, reminiscent of the lions resting somewhere on the Serengeti Plain. Boy, what happy dogs we have, don't we, Mommy?

And then one day, Max stopped eating and drinking again! Oh, no! We'd been so, so careful with the socks, we said to each other, what could he have gotten into? Off to the big animal hospital--one of the best--and guess what? Not a sock at all, but a piece of an ear of corn, stuck just like one of Daddy's socks! More surgery, more recovery, more pain and suffering for our best boy. And it was harder this time, cause he was a bit older and they weren't sure his body could tolerate another round of complicated abdominal surgery.

Soon, though, just like with the first surgery, Max was sitting obediently in front of the pantry, begging for treats. We were so happy to have our good boy back! We'd walk with our dogs and let them swim sometimes. Ginger used to move so fast in the water, didn't she, Mommy? And Maxwell, the Good Boy, would doggie paddle his way around, loving the ease which with his sore hip joints would work in the water. What a happy boy on walks and swims!

And in the winter, on the coldest of the coldest days, there was our Good Boy, happily laying outside, enjoying the sub-zero temperature! And then he would come inside and sprawl on the futon--his favorite place in the whole world to nap--looking like one of God's own angels, so deep in sleep and happy to be surrounded by his family.

Weren't we lucky, Mommy, to have been able to give Maxwell, our Best Boy, the happy, warm and loving life he enjoyed every single day?

And in the late afternoon, he'd lay in front of the big windows and wait for Daddy's truck to roll up the driveway. Once in sight, he'd yelp with excitement and rush out the back door, barreling down the slope to greet his Daddy! Every day, every time! How happy they were to see each other again! A few strokes to his beautiful head and that was all that he needed! What a special dog, that Maxwell!!

Soon, though, on the most terrible day, Maxwell laid down on the floor by Daddy and Joe and said goodbye to our sweet little girl. Ginger had been diagnosed with bone cancer and the end was at hand. Maxwell didn't quite understand why Joe had to carry the little girl out to the vet's truck, and every night for the next several weeks, he'd linger outside, making one last round of the yard, looking for the little girl who was nowhere to be found. His nightly searches would always break our hearts!

The seasons came and went, and Maxwell continued getting older. Not able to get around quite as well, Mommy and Daddy helped him up and down the stairs, because no matter what, the Good Boy had to sleep right there, content and warm on his special bed, knowing Mommy and Daddy were sleeping right there beside him.

One time, Mommy and Daddy thought about bringing in a new friend for our Good Boy. We brought Max in the truck--one of his very favorite things to do was to go for a ride!--to introduce him to the new dog, a big, strong puppy just starting her own life. They sniffed a bit, peered deep into each other's eyes and then we let them go for a swim in the lake. It was breaking Daddy's heart to see his Best Boy trying so valiantly to keep up with the younger, stronger dog, cause Daddy remembered when Maxwell was always the biggest, strongest, most able dog in the world. When they climbed out of the lake, they snapped at each other, and the younger dog drew a bit of blood on Maxwell's tongue! And you know what? Maxwell knew he was no longer the King of the Hill, and acknowledging the truth before him, he simply laid down, facing away from the young, strong dog, who was not feeling one bit threatened by our Good Boy. Daddy's heart sank. Goodbyes were exchanged and Mommy and Daddy took Maxwell home, feeding him treats and giving so much extra love the Good Boy wasn't sure what was going on, cause he had forgotten all about that other dog!

The summer started to fade and the nights cooled. Our Good Boy slept a lot and the trouble with his back legs got even worse. Now, Mommy and Daddy had to help him up the stairs at bedtime, and he'd cry a bit going up those last few stairs. Of course he went upstairs every night. That's where he slept, every night of his life. Right there next to Mommy and Daddy.

There were all sorts of pills and things for Maxwell's failing legs and hips, and it would break Mommy and Daddy's hearts to see their Best Boy struggle with every step. Now, though he'd still lay by that window each and every day, he could no longer run down to greet his Daddy. He'd stand on the deck with Mommy, barking "Hello" over and over until Daddy climbed the slope and rubbed his boy's head. Now that Daddy was home, they would all go in the house and Maxwell would slump down on the floor, content and safe and happy.

But nothing could stop the Good Boy's legs from weakening further, until one night, with tears in their eyes, Mommy and Daddy had to say goodnight to Maxwell downstairs and leave him there. He could no longer make it up or down the stairs. He cried from frustration and eventually climbed up on the futon and went to sleep. It was a sad night for Mommy and Daddy as well, and they left Maxwell's bed and bowl right there in their bedroom for many months, thinking of him each night before they turned out the light.

But like every other challenge in Maxwell's life, he handled it with dignity and bravely adjusted to his new reality.

The days rolled on and on, and as Maxwell's fragile back legs faltered even further, Mommy and Daddy built ramps so he would be able to move up and down off the deck more easily. Maxwell appreciated this and learned how to use the ramps quickly. But he was only able to take a few steps off the deck, and could only gaze at the breadth of the yard he once roamed so effortlessly . Yes, our good boy was definitely getting older.

With all the wintry weather which arrived early, the good boy struggled every time he went outside. He'd slip and fall, looking to Mommy and Daddy to come help him get up. It was sad that he'd become so helpless. Mommy had a great idea and covered the slippery wood floors with rugs, which helped Maxwell get some traction. He could maneuver pretty well, even as his hips and legs weakened further. Daddy would sit with him on the couch, and pet his sweet head as they enjoyed the quiet of the day and evening. Max would struggle to go one last time before bedtime and then climb up on his big futon-bed and shut his eyes, to dream through the night. Despite the extreme difficulty of getting around, both Mommy and Daddy believed that Maxwell was still a happy, loving dog.

As the winter of 2007-2008 began to set in, Maxwell's legs and hips got even worse, and although he'd get his many medications every day, he had gotten to the point where he could barely stand or walk. In fact, he'd often fall after just a step or two. Mommy and Daddy would get teary-eyed as they'd help by lifting him up and assisting him to get outside. He was having more and more difficulty with his basic bodily functions and Mommy and Daddy would cry, knowing that this was really the end.

Over the last couple of months, Maxwell couldn't even get off the deck and enjoy his yard, but he never complained, and with amazing dignity and acceptance of his fate, adjusted accordingly. The lessons to be learned from this dog were really amazing.

And so on a cold, grey day in Danby, New York, in late January, 2008, the sad day finally arrived. Joe and Courtney came over and we had a party for Maxwell, giving him so much love and affection between the tears, making sure he was comfortable and happy. He gobbled up the bananas Mommy shared and Daddy fixed him bread and peanut butter and cheese. We took a million pictures and sat down on the floor with him, touching and rubbing him and telling him how much we loved him.

At 3:30pm, the Vet arrived and our hearts sank even further. It was different when we said goodbye to Ginger: she'd been in terrible pain from the bone cancer and there was little relief in her last few days. With Max, it was only his legs. Everything else was fine. That is what hurt so, so much. But Mommy and Daddy knew there was no other option, and they cried their eyes out as the Vet took out all the tubing and needles and solutions. Mommy was so grief-stricken and couldn't bear to watch. She gave Max his very last treat and went upstairs with Courtney, sobbing uncontrollably. Daddy and Joe got down on the floor with Max and spoke gently to him, assuring him everything was ok. He was a bit anxious, but felt safe as long as Daddy's hands were right there, petting his sweet head. The Vet administered the first of the two solutions and Maxwell just gazed into his Daddy's eyes with trust and love. Mommy came downstairs to see her best boy one last time and before the second medicine was administered, and said goodbye again. Shaking and sobbing, Mommy returned upstairs.

Daddy cried and saw the second solution had now been administered. Daddy leaned even closer and kissed Maxwell, telling him what a good boy he'd ALWAYS been and how much he and Mommy loved him. Max's gaze never left his Daddy's eyes and with that, he was gone.

Everyone helped carry him to the Vet's car and Daddy, grief-stricken beyond compare, pulled back the sheet he'd been wrapped in and gave him many, many kisses as they said goodbye one final time.

Daddy then went upstairs to be with Mommy and they held each other tight, crying and crying, as the deepest pain and sorrow washed over both of them. Maxwell was gone.