The Infamous Max

In 2001, we adopted a dog named Max. Everyone who knows Max knows, he is a challenging dog to love and care for. Highly intelligent far smarter than his owners or any other dog we've ever owned. We often tell people he is an evil genius.

He can escape his crate, so we bought him a large six foot high, chain link kennel. He chewed through it.

He loves to run away, he ran away and got into our only neighbors trash a few weeks ago. She was worried he ate some chocolate. We weren't worried in the least....he is a superhuman dog, I told her, ''sorry my dog is a jerk.'' because a few months earlier, he kept her up all night barking when we left him in his kennel for the night.

He likes to run the schedule around here...he gets up, wants out, then wants food and will throw himself around until he gets that. I cannot even go to the bathroom myself before letting him out in the morning.

Recently he has taken to opening the zippers on Marty and I's backpacks and lunch coolers. We leave the room and find them dragged around and open, contents strewn about to and fro.

My friend's Mary, Heidi, Jen and I often joke around on Twitter about Max. We have determined he's an evil genius plotting to take over the world. We also joke he communicates with them via DM on Twitter. He is truly that smart of a dog.

He speak saying ''No'' which is his favorite word. One morning he was crying ''out momma'' from the kennel after I left for work, so loud that it woke Elizabeth up. He says ''Momma'' and  ''out'' as well.

If you saw him run and move around, you wouldnt believe he is thirteen. He is grey and lumpy now. As I was typing this blog, Conner just asked him if he had something to say and he said, ''No'' very clearly and loud. He knows what the camera looks like and will always stop talking when we get it out.

He is my foot warmer in the winter, companion during porch time and protector of the family. We are glad we've given him a good home. Despite his running away, bossy nature and foraging ways ( last week, he acted like he wanted to sleep on the couch. The next morning I figured out why, he ate the rest of a bag of Twizzlers off the table)

Only those who've met him will truly understand this post. He is an old dog, who acts young and will probably live a lot longer. He really takes a lot of hard work and TLC, many would've given up on him years ago.

My Interview on Coffee With Canines

Last month I received a email in my inbox that at first I assumed was a misdirected email. It said,  "Coffee with Jules and her canines" and I almost didn't read it. Turns out Marshal had read my blog and knew I had a couple of dogs. He writes a great blog where he interviews dog owners over coffee with their dogs.

What a great premise! Pet owners love to talk about their pets. I especially love to talk about Max and Oscar, so I jumped right in and said "YES!"

Today the interview has been published and I am thrilled to tell you where to read it. Head on over to http://coffeecanine.blogspot.com/ and read all about Max and Oscar.

Thanks for the opportunity Marshal!

Our Old Dog Max and my Deep Dark Secret

In 2002, after we were done having kids, we decided to adopt a pet. We had lost our beloved family dog Sam in 1997 and it was time to move on. We went to the local shelter and had a idea of what we wanted. We lived in a small two bedroom duplex and knew we needed a small dog.

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.

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.

Old Man Max

He loves when you scratch his neck. He smiles

I refuse to serve him at the table!

Yes, he really is Lab/Doxie. Google it

Old man Max

We had to make a tough choice two weeks ago, we moved our dog Max out of the house. Many of our friends are familiar with Max our nine year old doxie/lab mix. We saved him from the ASPCA nine years ago and immediately knew he was going to take major work. He liked to run away, no matter how long we walked him. He liked to piddle when you looked at him wrong or wanted him to do something. 

But, he was good with the kids and very loyal. He always came home when he ran away. He finally calmed down after crate training but the two major issues have remained. The last three years have been pretty decent until recently. He started regressing and going back to his old behaviors. The last straw was when he purposely marked two household items. We decided he needed to go live outside for the rest of his life.

This shocked some of our closest friends, everyone knows Max was king with Marty but it was Marty who finally made the choice. We bought him a heat lamp for his kennel, gave him plenty of blankets and trained him not to scratch at the door. Guess what?

He has calmed down and the stress level in the house has gone down considerably. He is happy and we are happy. We put the kennel near our bedroom so he can be close and look in the slider. He seems so much happier and calmer. We probably should have done this years ago.