We used to say you had to leave newspapers out for Max. Not to pee on. He needed to keep up on current events. He was that smart.
I remember walking him along with his less intellectual housemate, Jake, on a beach one morning. Jake lagged behind, his leash dragging in the sand while he snuffled around the corpse of a fish. Max, as usual, was ever alert...and he ran up to me to see how I was doing.
I asked him, "where's Jake? What's Jake doing? Go...go get Jake."
He took off, round the small cove, up to Jake, picked up his leash on his mouth and tugged. Jake started ambling along behind him.
My jaw dropped. That dog wasn't just smart, he spoke English.
Max wasn't mine. My friends let me look after him when they were away.
Max died this week. I know how much his humans loved him. And how much he loved them. I hope he knew how much he meant to me - the walks, the playing, the laughing, the running in the morning...thanks Max...rest...just rest.