Max was with us since we lived in Boulder. He was given to us by Mike's brother Bill to use as a cow dog. He was a red-healer mix and full of life. He loved to work cattle. He was aggressive with the fighting ol' witches and gentle with our kids. I grew quite close to Max... But for Mike, he is losing one of his right hand men. I can't even begin to count the hours the two of them have spent together, nor the miles they have gone.
|Mike and Max headed to work!|
|Max and I riding on the sled (crazy dog)|
We would get a kick out of his wily ways.
On Sunday Mike and I watched him walking through the trees by our house. I wish I would have known it was the last time I would see him. For days I have been waiting for his return, hoping that I would see him curled up in the flower planter he took over, or hear him whining, letting us know he wanted to go work cows. But he has not come home. He might still, we can hold onto hope. But he was almost 12 years old, we saw signs of his age, and he to mourned our Payson. So, again, I am writing about another dog...... But again, he was more than just a dog. He earned his keep.
He came home..... 8 days he was gone.... Who knows where.... We had given up hope, us of little faith.... We have had frigid, freezing weather with snow and all that.... Yet, the "terd" (Mikes word for him) came home ALIVE!