Sunday, October 19, 2014

Maxx

My boyfriend's older dog, Maxx, is dieing of cancer.  Right now.



When I first heard the news, I was so concerned for my boyfriend, Gary.  He's had this dog with him for almost two decades.  Maxx is more than a friend, he's like family.  Maxx was the first picture that I received in a text from Gary.

But then I started thinking about me.  I had plans with Maxx!  I couldn't wait to live with him, and be able to cuddle with him all of the time.  He's somewhat unsociable, especially for a retriever, but it didn't take too long until he liked me.  I liked him on sight, of course.  And he smells so... dog.
I had plans to take him on walks and hikes.  I had plans to buy a giant doggie bed so that I could cuddle with him after my boyfriend went to work.

And I'm not going to be able to do any of those plans.



I also realized that Maxx is a part of Gary.  One of the many parts that I love.  Losing Maxx is a little bit like losing a part of Gary.

As I continue to process losing Maxx, I realized that Gary's daughters are also losing a part of their childhood.  He's always been a constant presence for them.

I visited them all this weekend.  It was heartbreaking to watch Maxx lose strength, lose his appetite, lose joy.  I cried a lot.  For a silly dog and his loving owner, who both have stolen my heart.
It was nearly impossible to leave, to drive back to the city that I live in, knowing that this is probably the last time that I'll see Maxx.
He won't be panting at the door, excited that I'm visiting again. He won't be waiting near the table for scraps after we eat.  He won't be putting his butt in my face for scratches or slobbering on my lap.  Maxx is a giant presence in that house, and in Gary's life, and we're going to feel his loss deeply.  We can be grateful that he's had a wonderful life, full of love and walks and treats.  Still.  My heart hurts.