Max

Max was the smartest dog we have ever known, and he made sure we knew it. He could learn a new trick in an afternoon and spent the rest of the week reminding us he had done so. He was endlessly patient with our children — they dressed him up, built forts around him, used him as a pillow — and he accepted all of it with dignified tolerance. He was happiest outdoors: hiking trails, open fields, the beach in winter when it was too cold for most people and perfect for a dog. He could run for hours and still be waiting at the door when it was time to come inside. We lost Max suddenly at nine years old, far too soon. The house is quieter in a way that still catches us off guard — when we open the back door out of habit, when the kids call for him before remembering. He was nine years old but he filled every corner. We are so grateful he was ours.