Max died yesterday morning. Our old, arthritic cocker spaniel couldn’t manage to die peacefully in his sleep- no, he had to tumble down the stairs and break every bone in his body. We don’t go quietly into the night, We Gattones. It’s a testament to Max’s importance to our family that as much of my family as could do so made the trip to the vet’s office to be with him while he died. He went with his boots on and died in the arms of the woman he loved most (that would be my mother). An honorable death, and I suspect one Max would have preferred to going quietly in his sleep.
Max wasn’t our dog. We were his people. He so had the Gattone personality- he barked so much when he was outside Mom and Dad had to put a bark collar on him (which my brother stupidly put over his own throat and found out it works by zapping you), he was constantly running so fast that he would trip over his paws and slide across the hardwood floors and he ate pretty much whatever you handed to him or made the mistake of putting within his reach. If any of us were fighting or wrestling he jumped into the middle of it. Not to defend anyone, mind you, just for the pure joy of fighting.
Ever since my brother Anthony gave me the news, I’ve been crying off and on. I did what I think he would have done himself if able- had a good long walk, ate a cheeseburger for lunch. I think the best way I can honor him is to list the things he taught me and that we all could learn from:
- Max got off his leash once as a puppy and was chased by a bigger neighbor dog. I chased him for about a block before he heard me calling him and just stopped, turned around, and waited for me to catch up, tail wagging, and let me hook his leash back on. He also knew when my mother was due home from work every day (how?!?) and waited by the door for her.
Lesson: If you love someone, you should wait for them.
- Max always barked when he went outside to announce his presence.
Lesson: Always make an entrance.
- Max used to climb the porch stairs and stare right into the family room window and watch us eat with sad eyes. If he was in the house, he would hang out under the table, and would stick his muzzle in the laps of people he knew he had a chance of getting food from. He let us know he was out of water by shoving the empty dish at us. He would chew on your hand to show affection and demand yours by rolling onto his back or shoving his head under your hand. He never got that he was too big to be carried like a puppy and unapologetically climbed onto the leather furniture til my parents gave up and let him stay on it.
Lesson: Never be too ashamed to go after what you want and go after it til you get it.
- Ryan had charmed everyone else, but Max always growled at him when he came into our house. Max was right in the end.
Lesson: If you get a bad feeling about something or someone, trust it.
- His first Christmas I got him some Beggin’ Strips. They were too big and tough for him to handle but darned if he didn’t try and try until finally I broke it into small pieces he would handle.
Lesson: Don’t be too proud to take help when you need it.
- When Max was neutered, he wouldn’t let my parents, who had taken him to the vet, near him for the rest of the night. The next morning he was back to his loving self with everyone.
Lesson: When someone does something that hurts you (intentionally or not), its okay to need some space. But you also need to forgive.
- Max would lay on the armchair and listen to Anthony play the piano and sing for hours but would howl whenever I sang.
Lesson: There’s no accounting for taste.
- The groomers would always put a kerchief on Max’s neck and he wore it politely until my mom took it off. There was also an ugly sweater for when it got cold.
Lesson: There will be times when you look awfully foolish, be it by your hand or someone else’s, and you may be humiliated. But you can also bear it gracefully.
- Max never walked anywhere he couldn’t run to, he didn’t let any dangling food go unsnatched, and he was completely oblivious to your situation when he decided he wanted to lay on your lap.
- Lesson: When opportunity knocks, hurry your ass there.
- Max’s idea of a great present was usually a bird, maybe a mouse or chipmunk. It was disgusting, but he always presented them so sweetly. Note: This was usually my mother’s problem.
Lesson: It’s the thought that counts.
- One day, Mom caught Max red-handed digging a hole in the backyard and yelled for him to stop. Max looked up at my mother and casually laid down and stretched himself over the hole and looked at her innocently. It didn’t work but it was as smooth as any time one of my brothers tried to charm their way out of trouble.
Lesson: Go down swinging. Why deny when you can finesse?
- Max always had time to listen to us. He had no use for cell phones or email or facebook. He could tell if someone was down and would go comfort them. He got endless hours of fun from string and empty pop bottles, always had a good stretch before he got up. He would wake us up by climbing onto our chests and licking our faces til we begged for mercy. He always sprang to our defense and always made sure we knew what he was feeling. He understood that when you start to smell bad, its time for a shower. He always made sure he got enough sleep.
Lesson: He knew how to love and he knew how to live.
Last but not least…
- Whenever I was at my parents’ house, every night Max would climb up on my bed for a while and just sit there, standing watch over me. Eventually he would want to climb in, which of course I let him do. He would snuggle in for a while, then kick the covers off and scramble out of the bed and go downstairs. Yet every night I would still leave the door open so he could do it.
Lesson: There is not another male alive that I would let do that, so don’t get any ideas.
