Dear Reader,

I know that you are used to hearing from my human, but he is having some serious writer’s-block issues right now. The laptop is leaning up in the corner. He hasn’t shaved in weeks. He wears these pajama pants all the time. I think he may be having some type of mental breakdown or social phobia anxiety thing going on.

But I’m just a dog. What do I know?

I know this. He’s been at home every evening for the last several weeks for some reason. I’m not sure what’s going on. Usually, we at least ride down to that little store near the yellow flashing light a couple nights a week. But we don’t go anywhere anymore except to the farm and back home.

He asked me to pitch in and cover for him on this one. “The Life of Max”, he said. Woof! Woof! I can hardly wait.

I’m only 8 years old. I think. I don’t really have a birth certificate or papers of any kind. All I know is that I’ve drifted around from shelter to shelter most of my life. I got picked out of the line up by this young girl a while back. We had a good thing going on for almost a year, but then it all came to an end.

One day this other human showed up with a black truck. She gave him all my stuff. My bed. My dishes. My favorite leash.

“What are you doing?” I kept asking but nobody paid me any attention.

Ooh! Squirrel! I bolted off so fast it took 15 minutes to catch me. I was just trying to show her that I may be old but I’m still fun. “We don’t have to do this.”

Everybody just scratched my ears like it was no big deal. The girl cried. I got in the truck with my new human. And my new life began.

The truth is that I like my life right now better than ever. My bed is by the fireplace. My new home is in the middle of the woods. I used to live in an apartment in town. I got to go out a lot, but never without a leash. I wore the leash for a while here, but now I’m completely free to go wherever I want.

This place has got everything a dog could want. There’s a creek to play in. Squirrels to chase. There used to be this cat that lived here. The first day I walked into the house that old cat got all riled up and snarled at me. I growled back at him. We just never got off on the right foot, I guess. And he was pretty fast for an old cat. I chased the heck out of him. He lives somewhere else now and I have the whole place to myself. LOL. Woof.

I’m getting pretty attached to this new gig. When my human heads for the door in the mornings I go into my happy trot. And for some crazy reason, I snort and sneeze when I get excited. It’s still dark outside. Before I get into my seat in the truck there’s a strange noise coming from “out there.” My ears perk up.

“It’s just an old Hoot Owl, Max”, he says. I wish I knew what a Hoot Owl was. I keep chasing the sound but always seem to be barking up the wrong tree.

When we get to the tree farm my day really begins. I am so lucky. I have food dish there and one at home. Occasionally I get a bite of a chicken biscuit. And. oh my goodness, the Crows are everywhere. I’m pretty sure that my job is to protect everyone from the Crows. I can spot one from a thousand yards off. I’m fast, but they’re sneaky. I dart. They fly. They sit way up there in the top of that huge tree down by the pond and mock me. One of these days. . . one of these days, I’m gonna catch one.

My human doesn’t realize it, but he needs me around. I worry about him. So, when he moves, I move. When he walks. I stay right with him. When he drives around doing tree stuff, I chase right along beside him. I can’t let him get outta my sight. Who knows what would happen to him if I wasn’t around?

Ooh, crow!

Sorry, I got distracted.

One day he got in his truck and drove off faster than usual. I could hardly keep up. I mean, I am like 56 dog years old, you know. Anyways, he drives right out the gate and turns out on the road. I couldn’t believe it. He’s so absent minded. I’m sure he thought I was with him, but he’s old, too, you know. Sometimes he forgets things. I kept running right out and on down the road after him. He can’t go anywhere without me.

He must have come to his senses. He didn’t say so, but I think when he realized I was missing he got scared. He stopped the truck on top on the hill, opened the door and waited on me to catch up. I tried to tell him, “Bad Human. Bad Human.” But I don’t think he got it.

I have to tell you. Mrs. Human is not so bad either. She thinks I’m funny. She makes sure I have something to eat. And she talks to me all the time. I have no idea what she’s saying, but I think it means she loves me. I’ve learned that if I butt my head on their bedroom door in the night, she’s the one who will get up and check on me. Sometimes she’ll stay out in my room just to keep me company. I sleep better when she’s around.

Speaking of sleeping. None of us are going to sleep much tonight. It’s been thundering most of the evening. I have no idea what that means other than when I feel and hear that awful rumble outside, I get all nervous inside. One night I begged to go outside so I could get away from it all. I was T-bone Terrified. Running probably made no sense, but it was all I could think to do.

Hours and miles later, I found this nice lady who let me stay in her garage with her dog. I have no idea how my human found me, but he did. He came and got me the next day. And he was all nice about it, too. The next time it thundered he even gave me candy, which for some reason really made me sleepy.

I don’t know if this is the stuff that my human wanted me to tell you about or not. But it’s all true and it’s my story. And all this gives me reason to paws and think about how grateful I am to have my human. I think all dogs should have a human. It’s not so hard to take care of one.

If only I could get him out of those red plaid flannel pajama pants and back to doing some serious writing.

Your Friend,
Max