It always happens when you are going about the most mundane tasks of your life. You stand in line at the grocery store or the post office or in this case at the AT&T shop on a Saturday afternoon. Your phone rings, you answer and you never expect the bad news. For me it was my Dad calling to tell me that he was going to put my dog to sleep this coming Monday (today). I stood there saying yes, okay, alright then, while some guy packaged up my phone. I sniffed and wiped away the swelling moisture in my eyes, trying to just make it out of the store before bursting into actual tears. I cried so hard, harder than I expected even, all the way to my parents' house to say goodbye.
Max arrived at our house one afternoon just days before Christmas when I was 12. My Mom, brother and I were coming home after a trip to the Orthodontist. The door to our house stood slightly ajar my Dad, just inside the entry, held a video camera. On the ground was a gift bag with the image of a puppy on it. I stood there wondering what was going on, when moments later a small and somewhat sleepy beagle trotted to the door in a curious prance.
Its been almost 16 years and he was still curious, exuberant, energetic and like all beagles food crazy right up until a few weeks ago when his cancer got the best of him. He was the only dog I've ever had and he will always be my Max; I can't imagine going to my parents' and him not being there. I miss him already.