Max, the BEST Dog in the World
March 4, 2004

The brisk winter air hit his moist, black nose as he exited the house.
The ocean scent drew him as the blue-once-beige house fell out of sight.
He looked like a raccoon on the prowl as he rounded the redwood fence.
His padded feet carried him swiftly along the broken sidewalk; his peaked ears forward in determination.
He thought back to his first day here in the valley looking through the window of a moving car.
As his new mother carried him along the front path, he saw two kids through the front window, jumping up and down in excitement.
Placed down on the brown rug he cautiously inspected his surroundings.
He was scared all right!
The first night he decided he didn’t like being left alone and darn it if it took two hours for the girl to take him into her room with newspapers and all.
Life at the Murray house soon proved great: big backyard, two kids to run after and bite their ankles, a humungous valley to explore, a man to guard the house front for as he worked on cars, and a mom who always took care of him- walks, food, bath, and brush.
And this family always loved him.
Even when he chewed off all the hair on his butt,
Ate up pig ears and let the worst stinkies go,
Left all the blankets in the house covered with slobber,
Barked incessantly at the mailman and the dogs next door,
His family still showered him with kisses,
Even when he growled to defend his stiff legs as one reached to pet him,
One “Saba!” made him subdued for affection.
He remembered the many trips to the lake,
So many sticks to find and thrash-even if no one could satisfy his need to fetch.

He thought about the leftovers of fresh salmon, chicken coop, rolled up pieces of cheese, and near empty ice cream bowls left on the ground to lick.
It wasn’t always good-
Like all the times he’d get yelled at for defending the home by barking,
For chewing up that darn black cat that showed up one day and stole his attention,
Also, there were many days when he’d sit for what felt like years, waiting for someone to come home,
After all, there is only so much barking and thrashing of the fence one dog can do.
But he always knew, when the family was home, he had to be near them,
Whether if it was seeing where the man was going to help him fix something.
Or what the young-man-once-boy was up to in his room,
Or what mom was gonna cook for dinner that night,
Or, when she came, if the young-woman-once-girl would take him bye-bye.
And when they were all together sleeping in the house,
He would take turns sitting at all the rooms’ doorways,
Or perhaps jumping on the foot of the bed to feel warmer and maybe chew a blanket.
He thought of all these things as his sleek, mottled red coat swiftly went down the tree-lined valley.
He hadn’t felt this alive in awhile and his thoughts about the family and the blue-once-beige house faded- yet his heart felt full of love.
As the trees parted a bit and night sky danced upon the pavement,
He saw a pack of dogs running ahead, dogs he hadn’t seen in awhile-
Cody, Boomer, Misty and even Oreo.

He picked up his pace and the cool ocean breeze drew him more to the pack,
With his feet quick along the ground he ran,
All the while looking for pinecones.

- Kelly Murray, a young woman once a girl, author
 

Carol & Bart Murray and Family