Fordius Maximus, the Puppy Dog.

Max has been in my family for 11 years.
ELEVEN.
Almost as long as even Toby has.

So, this morning, when we lost him, I didn't lose a family pet.

I lost a brother.
FOR REAL.

Max LOVED to play. 

He would play fetch for hours and hours and hours.

He loved those dang balls.

He LOVED stuffed animals.

He SLEPT with stuffed animals. All cuddled up.
It was the cutest thing I've ever seen in my life.

He didn't really enjoy affection, 

and was just perfectly content laying at your feet for hours.

Until these last couple of years when he couldn't move so well,

he wrestled with my dad for 9 years straight, I swear.

I would be in bed, and all of a sudden, I would hear Max start barking his head off and running around.

He loved playing with my dad.
He LOVED my dad.

He was obsessed with water.

Every time we got the hose out, it was like Disneyland in the Call's backyard.

He would snap at it until he was coughing water out of his eyeballs, I swear hahaha.

He might not have liked affection too much, 

but when I went through a really hard year - where I would cry almost every night - 

Max would lay by me and lick my face.
He just knew. I don't know how, but he just knew.
And he was everything I needed.

Every time.

Max was a puppy when we got him 11 years ago,

and he was still a puppy this last week.

He could barely walk, but that didn't stop him from chasing Murphy.

I love Max.

I love him 11 years worth of love.

And I'm going to miss him TERRIBLY.

But am so grateful that we were all there for his last day.

Even though he couldn't move, he let us cuddle him and brush him and play in the water

and just be with him.

And for that, I am grateful.

Look how smiley he was!

Even on his very last day.

Until we meet again, Maxy!

And I KNOW we'll meet again.