As we walked the aisles, I spotted the "perfect" fit. A 9 month old chocolate Lab/Dachshund mix. YES, you read the correctly. A Lab dachshund mix. Perfect, our love of Labs and small dog put together. What else could we want. The infamous story goes like this, they offered for us to see him outside his kennel and he hopped up into my lap and started shaking. I should have known then.
We waited the appropriate waiting period and took him home. That's when the fun began. We thought training would be a breeze since Marty had impeccably trained Sam. WRONG.
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| Max sitting pretty in his youth |
This dog came with a laundry list of neurosis. He loved to bolt at the first chance he could get, that explains why he was found "At Large" on his pound tag. He hated to sit on anything but carpet. He was obviously abused in his past life because he piddled when you looked at him or when someone new came into the house. Just a few things in a laundry list of neurosis.
He was very good with the kids. Elizabeth was one and Conner was three when we got him. Sadly, he quickly learned I was the momma and he was all about me, wanting nothing to do with the kids. He tolerated them and played with them but followed me everywhere. Often barking and throwing himself or jumping up and hitting, sometimes nipping my hand to get me to do things for him.
He quickly decided he didn't like Marty or I to hug or kiss. Still to this day he cries , "No no" or "Momma" when we do this. He loves me, more than I love him.
We tried everything to break him of his running. He would figure out how to escape from the kennel and still bolt out the door. No matter how many times we've moved, he always finds his way home in 15-20 minutes. We finally moved to a house with a gated front entry so he no longer can run away. He still tries but after his famous "River run' where he floated down the St.John's river the day we got the first call from Stanford, he seems to be cured. On that day, as we were searching for him in the rain and cold, E said to me, " I know you don't love him but I do!" OUCH!
I do love him. He is just a handful and tries my patience. He is famous with our friends for his bad behaviour. Many of them have witnessed him following me around and throwing himself at me while I do my daily tasks.
In 2008, before we moved to this house. The "Incident" happened. On one particular, I wanted to go to the bathroom by myself, something most mom's long for. I thought I had achieved this only to see Max sitting at the bathroom door inside the bathroom watching me. Oh NO! this dog wasn't going to watch me pee. So I shoo'ed him out into my bedroom.
I noticed a brown furry bug on the ground and started yelling. Marty yells at the same moment, "Why is Max shaking" and then "Max is bleeding everywhere" and it hit me. On accident I slammed his tail in the door, docking it in the process. It was Mother's day weekend and the vets were closed. We dipped his tail in Nu Skin and wrapped it tightly. Later we found out it was a clean break and we actually did the right thing. We were told he had to not chew on it or risk surgical removal. We waited it out and his tail healed quite nicely. You would never know he is missing the tip of his tail. Sadly, I have never spoken of it. The shame I feel is great, it was a accident and not my fault, I still feel terrible.
The good news is we are even. On Christmas eve, 2010 while attempting to get up from the couch and grab the drier buzzer before Oscar howled, Max hopped up at the same time and landed on my foot breaking my pinky toe.
He still is gun shy with me and doors, the dog is smart and doesn't forget. If I don't open the front door wide enough for his liking, he backs up until I do. It's quite funny all these years later and he remembers. In 2010, he was sent to live outside after he marked twice in the house. Guess what? He is happier than ever and loves living outside. It actually fixed several of his issues. After a year, he is allowed to come in for the morning hours and loves it. After 11 years, we finally are enjoying each others company.
He is healthier than our 6 year old Doxie Oscar and we fully expect him to live to be twenty years old. It's been a labor of love to give him a forever home. I am glad we adopted him, most people would have sent him right back.
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| Old Man Max |
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| He loves when you scratch his neck. He smiles |
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| I refuse to serve him at the table! |
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| Yes, he really is Lab/Doxie. Google it |
