Thursday, June 20, 2013

Day 1354 - Maxwell TP the First

His name was Max.



Our beautiful boy passed away on Tuesday. He had many names: Maxwell TP the First (TP: Tahlia's Puppy), Maxibon, Maxamillion, Max Factor (on account that he always showed us his "lipstick"), Maximum Impact, Maximus, Maxy, Maxi Doodle (again with the "lipstick"), Maxy Boy, Maxicon, Max-the-hip-gyrating-Lab and then Max-the-beautiful-blonde-blind-Lab. And just plain Max.


Max.

We miss him.

When I woke up this morning there was no thumping sound as his tail wagged against the wall.  When I came home yesterday he was not at the gate to greet me.  When I am sitting here working alone he is not there to bounce my thoughts and ideas off.  When I need fresh air he is not there to walk beside me.  When I open the fridge there is no excited panting coming from the other side of the kitchen bench. When we sit on the lounge and watch TV at night there is no dog wandering across for his evening pats. There is no dog to do dopey dog-like things that make us laugh out loud. There is no drool on the tiles. There is no fur floating about. We miss you Max!

Today I give you one of the first posts I ever wrote about our hip-gyrating-gay Labrador.  Way back at day 32.  Over 1300 days ago ...

He was a great dog.

Enjoy.


Day 32
A blonde and her husband are lying in bed listening to the next door neighbour's dog. It has been in the backyard barking for hours and hours. The blonde jumps up out of bed and says,"I've had enough of this". She goes downstairs.

The blonde finally comes back up to bed and her husband says "the dog is still barking, what have you been doing?"

The blonde says, "I put the dog in our backyard, let's see how THEY like it!

****

We have an absolutely beautiful blonde lab called Maxwell TP The First – or Max for short. He also gets called Maxibon, Maxamillion, Maximus, Maximum Impact, and my personal favourite, Maxfactor (because he is always showing us his lipstick). Max. Like any lab once he was trained and hit middle age, he became the perfect family pet. He goes on holidays with us whenever possible, attends any outdoor activity, spends time on the farm causing chaos with the cattle and horses, and he just loves the beach. Max.

Max of course wasn’t always so pleasant to have around. For the first three or four years of his life he ripped up the backyard, chewed shoes, ate toys, destroyed the $2000 automated watering system, and continually ripped clothes off the line. My clothes I might add. Oh, and the most interesting little foible he had was to break into the laundry and steal my dirty undies and swimwear, chew them beyond recognition, then bury them in the backyard to save for later. What is that all about?

Now that Max is getting on in years we are continually reminded of his mortality. Watching “Marley and Me” highlighted that fact. The kids have a new appreciation for Max after blubbering themselves stupid over Marley. Darby of course has always loved his dog, what boy doesn’t? He spends many a waking hour running around the back yard with his 9 year old dog in tow. Derek is busy training Darby up to eventually take over poo patrol. (We all know I won’t do it.)

Dogs. Every family should have one. One being the operative word. As of yesterday we now have three!

Millie is Nanna’s baby girl. She is a white fluffy thing that has recently been shaved within an inch of her life and now resembles a ferret. She is the new addition to the family now that Nanna is “trialling” a new life in an aged care facility. Tahlia is ecstatic to have Millie around, because although she adores Max she can’t carry him about in a handbag. Well, you could I suppose, maybe one of those suitcases on wheels? I am not sure if Millie knows what is in store for her but Tahlia’s Santa list includes “matching clothes for me and Millie”. Hmmm. Millie is about to become a living doll.

Then there is Binny. Binny is my Dad’s farm dog. We are looking after him temporarily while my folks traipse around Thailand on a trekking holiday. He is a great cattle dog. Being trapped in a suburban backyard for two weeks isn’t really his style though. But he’ll be ok given Max is with him, and they are after all, lovers.

Ah yes, did I fail to mention that? Our blonde polar bear is gay (not that there’s anything wrong with that). Perhaps gay isn’t really putting it all in perspective. Um, Max is a raving poof (not that there’s anything wrong with that). He and Binny are very much in love and have no problems with public displays of affection. Who am I kidding? They bonk at every available opportunity. They can’t get enough of each other! It’s seriously off-putting. And Max becomes a horny old toad! Even with Binny metres away Max’s hips start gyrating and he can’t walk straight. It’s a hard one to explain to the kids. We usually explain it away as “dancing”.

So our little suburban backyard is now home to a street funking fag, a dolled up ferret and a canine cowboy of the Brokeback Mountain variety.

Dogs. Every family should have one …






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