Our Oldest Boy

This year we celebrated our oldest boy turning 12. He’s sweet, intuitive, wise beyond his years and still loves to snuggle. He still wags his tail and jumps when I pick up his leash, and he’s never lost his homeless habit of scouring the floor for scraps and crumbs. Though we don’t know his actual birthday or even his definite age, he’s certainly a senior now, and he’s starting to show all the quirks that come with it.

At nearly 70 in dog years, Max has his humans trained more than the other way around. Every morning I wake up to him staring at me from my bedside floor, as if it’s so rude of me not to have served his breakfast yet. Drew can no longer sit on Max’s corner of the sofa, and moves aside for him to curl up in the evening. He refuses to sit anywhere else. When the boys play outside and leave the front door open, Max meanders down the driveway to make sure everything is in order, and waits patiently for someone to realize the door to his home is ajar.

Working from home during the last year has given us even more insight into the daily routine of our dog. To my amusement, he actually follows a schedule:

6:30am– wake up mom, eat breakfast
7am– add to the chaos of getting the boys dressed and ready for school
8am– bark at recycling trucks or delivery vehicles
9am– nap
10-11am– stand outside basking in the sun and meditate
Noon– nap

The remainder of the day varies between naps, supervising the small humans while they eat or play, and barking at anything suspicious.

The old dog may be unable to keep up with me on a run, but he still keeps us on our toes. He’s our oldest boy, and the goodest boy.