Sassy (my older fifteen and half year old dog) looked for Max all night. She looked everywhere; in places she and Max would never go--my closet then Jerry's closet. After making her rounds through the entire house, she took a break to smell his bed and then the ritual started again. Lesson: Sassy gave herself permission to grieve for Max so I did too. Max came into our lives 6 years ago. My daughter and her friend found him on the streets of south Florida; he was what some would call a stray--homeless, unloved and hungry. He captured my heart on day one and became my dog. Definitely was not prepared to lose him like this; keep in mind, Sassy is the older, unhealthy dog that we knew would not be with us much longer. She has had cancer for the last two and a half years and has miraculously astonished us all. Max on the other hand, was 9 years young, playful and full of energy; his best years were still ahead of him. This past week my "Max--ee" was lethargic, not eating, not drinking, and not frolicking with Sassy or us. I knew there was something wrong but didn't think it would be so serious. Max was diagnosed with an auto-immune disease (doggie aids) and the prognosis was not good. I spent an hour holding him, giving myself permission to grieve and say goodbye. Max is a great dog to snuggle with but he is not a licker; however, the last five minutes of holding him he started licking my hand--I think it was his way of saying goodbye too. Max, Mommy will see you at the Rainbow Bridge; until then holding you close in my heart. This is Tuesday talk.