Hi, I'm Max

Hi, my name is Max. Im two months old and my mom tells me I'm just a baby.

I like to bite things a lot! I prefer toilet brush, slippers and table legs over my toys. My favorite game is to silently sneak up on people, get a slipper and run very fast with it in my mouth until they notice me and chase me around. It SOOO FUN!!! I also highly recommend exploring the trashcan for the wonderful things that hoomans leave in there.

But, I think I shouldn't be doing this because it would always result in my mom shouting "NO!!" at me. I have been hearing the word "NO" so many times I'm beginning to think is part of my name. This is what I look like when I'm being scolded. I'm trying my best to look sorry.

But, I try not to mind her when she is scolding me. I just give her the sweetest smile and she not angry anymore. After all, who can resist this face?

Introducing Max

Myra (Charlie's cousin and best friend) gave birth to three puppies last March. The puppies are mixed Japanese Spitz and Lhasa Apso. I wanted to adopt one of the puppies but understood that there are families already waiting for them.

Max, the only male puppy, was returned to my cousin last week because his adoptive parents found him too rambunctious. They realized that they cannot take care of the puppy, especially since they have a little girl who is afraid of it.

Thus, last week, my cousin asked me if I want to take care of Max.

I never expected that he will be my dog. In fact. I was already looking at other options. But, as I told my friends, it felt right. Max is adjusting wonderfully in our family. He is as naughty as any other puppy, easy to train and motivated by food.

When Charlie died last month, I said I will close this blog because I could not think how I would continue doing this anymore. But, I think Max deserves a voice too. And I think at the Rainbow Bridge, Charlie is nodding in approval.

Irene

Gratitude

Thank you for the support you have given me during this difficult time. I was really touched and found comfort as I tearfully read each and every comment posted. I'm especially thankful to our friends, Siku and her mom, Teddy Bear and his mommy, Prints and Angel Hana's mommy, Khyra, The Piappies, Lorenza, The Secretary and all the dogs living with them, especially Charlie's Kuya Jappy.

As I ponder about Charlie's death, the raw and painful reality that I will never see him again washes over me, reducing me to the crying wreck that I have been these past few days.

His sudden illness and death shocked me. Last week, he was playful and happy. Now, he is gone. Please hug your pets tightly tonight, show them your love, give them your attention and never take for granted the time you spend with them.

Its the little things I miss the most, his endearing habits and quirks.

I will never feel the careful but insistent gritting of his teeth on my jeans or my sleeve, his own way of saying "Hey, I missed you." I will never see that eager face, begging for an ice cube, whenever I would open the freezer. I will never see his special way of jumping, excited to go out for a walk, then, patiently staying still until I clip the leash on his collar. I will miss the doggy kisses he generously gives.

We buried Charlie in our family home outside the city, overlooking a lake. As we drove to his final resting place, I remembered all the wonderful times spent together, especially the trip to the beach we had last year.

Charlie taught me life lessons that I would never forget. He taught me the importance of cherishing family and loved ones. From him, I learned to believe in my own capacity to overcome adversities - to keep trudging, even in difficult moments, knowing that I will be able to get through it and everything will be alright. I am really fortunate to have known him.

Though I am still grieving, I find solace in the fact that he has moved on to a better place, happy and whole again. I love him so much and I would not be able to bear the thought of him suffering. I am happy that he is now running free at the Rainbow Bridge.

Farewell my love, my payaba. I will miss you forever.

Irene