Max is my mom and I's Maltese. He will be 13 years old this April. We got Max right after I graduated from high school in 1998 and although he was supposed to be "my dog" the dorms wouldn't allow pets. "Oh no mom! Where will he stay?" :o) Therefore Paula became a co-owner by default. In fact, Max is pretty much hers now, but I take care of him as much as I can and doggy sit on a regular basis. And here's the thing, I LOVE this dog. I can't imagine my life with out hearing his funny noises, seeing his bow legged walk, or playing games with him.
In the past year or so his back legs have really started to give out and he now receives a steroid shot every month. The day after he gets his shot he's like super dog! He runs all over the place, tries to jump up on the couch again, and is generally a pain the you know what. We joke that he has "Roid Rage" and laugh at all the attitude that comes flooding back into his 10lb body after a good dose of the "juice".
Max has a love of his life. His name is duck.
Max sits with duck, grooms duck, plays tug of war with duck, and of course sleeps with duck.
Up until Blake and I got married about a year and a half ago he had lamb, but the day of our wedding there was a bridal brunch at my mother's house and because lamb looked like a piece of scrap fabric from all the grooming, he was thrown away by someone unknowingly. For weeks Max walked around crying and looking everywhere for lamb and then one day, by some miracle he noticed duck. Their eyes met, and the rest my dear friends is history.
Xo-Wife of Wright
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