I let my baby go today. He just doesn't have anymore "try" left in him, unable to walk, stand or enjoy the things he loved. Falling asleep in a pain-riddled, broken body, he'll awake as the picture of grace and agility he was at two years old, stump a-waggin', I assure you. He has colored my life in so many ways, I can't imagine how different I would be without him.

There were so many things packed into that 65 pounds! The mighty hunter, the great communicator, the love dog. He taught me how to love fiercely and protect fiercely. He was my defender, my jester, my challenge, my constant, my baby. And if love alone could have saved him, he would be with me still.

I love remembering him loving:

Butt scratches, ear rubs and cookies
Kites ("That's the biggest bird I ever saw...")
A white fur collar with Christmas lights
Fire engines that made him sing oh-so-beautifully
An occasional escape
An occasional kitty cat
Bike rides
Bark Park
The tiny hands of children (not to eat...)
People saying, "Your dog is BEAUTIFUL!" After all, he knows.

If I may borrow from an American literary classic, Winnie-the-Pooh:

Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind.
"Pooh," he whispered.
"Yes, Piglet?"
"Nothing," said Piglet, taking Pooh's paw,
"I just wanted to be sure of you."

I will always be sure of Max Webster. I'm fortunate to have been his human.

"The dog is the god of frolic." - Henry Ward Beecher

My sweet one is frolicking in a more beautiful meadow than I can imagine.

Wait for me - I'll be along!

Laura Webster (email:

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