9 January 2014
What’s a girl to say but L?
Last week Digger hijacked my computer, wrote the blog,
then proceeded to write an ode to my daughter.
I’m back and you’ll be glad to know that this week there’ll be no ode or
mention of the words ‘sweet’ and ‘fart’ in the same sentence**.
This week’s edition of the Digger Dogologues is dedicated to
Digger’s friend, Max, a beautiful bouvier des flandres who passed away last
weekend. He was the much-loved pet, a loyal, faithful and true companion my
dear friend, Roger, and will be greatly missed.
For those of you who own a dog (or a pet who can actually
interact with you), you’ll know what it’s like to love an animal (almost?) like
a member of the family. No more need be said.
My friends Melanie, Christy and Linda, as well as my sister, Mindy would
all understand this feeling of loss. But
for you who are pet-less, then know that it can be very traumatic to lose a
beloved pet.
Max was a beast of a dog.
Their name in French means “cow herder
of Flanders” and they were originally used for general farm work and the
males can weigh upwards to 120 pounds (or 54 kilograms). Now they are used for
guard dogs or police dogs or PETS! Rumor
has it that the sound that Chewbacca made in the Star Wars movie is the same
sound that a bouvier makes when he’s making sounds, but I can’t verify this. Even Ronald Reagan owed a bouvier named Lucky
(I found that fact on Wikipedia, so I can’t verify this either. Sorry. Let me know if
you know whether that’s true or not.)
Max and Digger met when they
were puppies. Max was born in August and
Digger in October and when they would get together and play, Digger, being the
much-smaller of the two, would climb all over Max as he lay on the floor. They were lovely companions and liked each
other very much. As they both grew up,
they didn’t see so much of each other. Max would walk at different times than
Digger and their owners (whilst still good friends after all these years)
couldn’t be bother to arrange play dates for their dogs! Such is life!
No one approached Roger’s home
without first encountering Max. He was a
guard dog, not by training but by nature, and he protected the home and family
he loved. Some might say his bark was
worse than his bite (although I never heard that he had bitten a soul) but a
stranger approaching the house would only see this big, black, hairy dog
barking in bass tones. He did his job
and did it well. No strangers ever
messed with Max!
As Max grew older, he became
grumpier (as often happens in dogs and humans) and was a solitary dog (bar his
interaction with Pepe, the new dog in the family, and others he met on his
walks). But, let me tell you this. Max adored
his owner, Roger, and Roger adored his Max and together they made a great team.
Max, being an uncommon breed in this part of England, always attracted
attention when he went out for a walk. People
would often approach Roger and strike up a conversation with him about his dog.
As I’ve said before, a dog is a great ice-breaker, especially in England, and
can be the catalyst for some deep, life-long friends. What a legacy, eh? Roger doted on Max and Max did not leave his
side. Max was a faithful companion to
the end.
So here’s to Max. Fierce protector, faithful companion, much-loved
member of the family.
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