Max was 11 months old when we saw an ad on Craig’s List for a purebred black lab pup that was being given away. After driving out into a remote area of the woods, we came upon a house where the man told a story of how his son had bought the dog to hunt with but circumstances made it so his son couldn’t own a gun anymore and Max was too big and rough to keep in the house. It honestly looked like something out of a scary movie. If they didn’t get rid of him that day he was going to the pound. It was about this time when a big black dog came out from under the porch and ran towards us with an old baseball in his mouth. He bowled right through me and into the truck. I didn’t know at the time he would never again turn down “let’s go for a ride”. I didn’t want a lab. Never had one, I’d heard they’re stinky and shed like crazy. I’m a German Shepherd girl at heart. Or I was. So Max rode home, then straight to the vet. He was covered in fleas, a couple of ticks and was heart worm positive. So began the journey with the most expensive free dog ever. Over the years he proved to be a talented escape artist, could hold a baby chick in his soft mouth and hand it back to you unharmed (but slimy), could sniff out any thing that came on the property and would follow a scent for miles (with or without supervision-escape artist). Max rode shotgun on cross country trips and was always down for a trip to Starbucks. He was also extremely kind and the funny friend in every group of dogs, the babysitter to the meanest little cat, a therapist, a floor cleaner, protector of the house (especially from the mail person) and so much more. Max had a lethal tail wag. His big head was the sponge for gallons of tears. If someone was upset he would walk right on up and be ready to listen. If you needed someone to hug, he was there. Max fought the cancer with all his might. He was a kind, gentle giant and brave until his very last breath. He is missed beyond words.