Max has Angel Wings....

We were given so many wonderful gifts yesterday that we are so grateful for. This morning the gifts kept coming. We haven't seen rabbits around our property for a few months now. In the summer and early fall, we were trying to live trap these 2 rabbits that were getting into our backyard because our boys always want to eat the rabbit milk duds left all around our yard. We especially don't want Max eating them right now but Sammy goes to town on them, running feverishly through the backyard searching for tiny pellets..... and his breath - OH BOY! But, thankfully the rabbits wised up (or were rehomed by hawks or coyotes) and they disappeared awhile back, giving Colin and I a much needed break from chasing Sammy around screaming "Stop eating rabbit poop!".

Today we are taking Max to MSU to help him along to gain his angel wings. On this last morning, my husband, Colin, took Max out for his morning potty break. Before they even stepped off the back deck, the chase was on. Max, who has been very slow moving the last few weeks from his disc issue and not feeling well, took off like a ...... well, like a cancer free dog chasing a rabbit. :) Max saw the little milk dud imposter and lept off the back deck like he was superman and took off running. His 4 legs carried him as fast as they could and for a moment, he was just Max chasing a rabbit. He wasn't sick. He wasn't injured. He wasn't tired. He didn't have cancer. He was my black & white furry playful rabbit chasing Max. What a gift to see!

The day you know you are taking your furry loved one to gain his angel wings is really a tough day on so many levels. Everything for them that day is going to be their last. It was tough thinking "this will be his last time in our backyard" or "this will be the last time he sees his brother until they meet again one day" or "this is the last bite of food he is ever going to enjoy." Ugh. I had to keep shifting my mind away from the "this will be the last time" thoughts to focusing on the moment and just enjoying time with our boy.

Then there is the decision "What blanket do we bring with us? Do we bring his favorite toys? Do we keep them with him or bring them home after?" Ahead of time there is the "I want to clip some of his hair so we have it" or "Let's get a mold of his nose or We need paw prints made". The weeks leading up to that final day are hurried and rushed with all the "Need tos" and "Want to have that" and it's really a mind screwer upper. With people, normally, we are not helping them along. Except for Dr. Kevorkian (unless it's legal now in some states) we normally don't help along people in gaining their angel wings. That is usually left to God and time and disease or natural causes or tragedy. It is a difficult thing to wrap your mind around ending the life of someone or something you love (although to us, Max will never be a something - he is a someone to us always). Maybe some of you that have helped your fur babies along understand some of what I am saying.

Well.....

The time has come and it was time to leave. Max and Sammy sniffed each other as we put on Max's harness to leave. We know that his brother, Sammy, knew he was sick. We know that Sammy knew Max was really sick these past few days, because he gave us the space and time we needed to take care of Max. Sammy would lay on the couch and watch us as we cleaned up Max after potty breaks (still having bad diarrhea). He watched as we wiped him down and put his double diapies on and then lifted him onto the mattress where we have been camping out for a few weeks now. He watched as we hovered over Max and sang him his favorite songs and as we told Max everything we have ever wanted him to know. Sammy watched. He watched as we headed out the door to the car and cried out to his brother for the last time.

As we headed to the vet school on MSU's campus where Max had been treated for the past several months, Max and I snuggled in the backseat for the hour long drive. We rolled down the window so Max could stick his head out and breathe in the fresh crisp air and take in all the smells. My husband and I talked about how blessed we have been to have had this fur baby in our lives and we reminisced about how we got Max and how we knew it was God ordained that this boy was ours. I had to take a lot of deep breaths and tried to get as many kissies as I could during the drive. I thought it was important we didn't cry or show that we were upset bc I didn't want Max's last car ride to be sad for him. These fur babies feed off our emotions and I had really tried over the past month or so to keep my tears in private and when I was feeling overwhelmed, I slipped away to handle myself rather than doing it in front of the dogs.

I found myself clutching Max on my lap, stroking his fur between my fingers and trying to memorize every single stroke. Colin and I talked about the things we were grateful for. We reminisced the silly antics and the crazy experiences we had with Max. We talked about how he bursted his way into our lives and all the moves we had with him, the different houses, the different backyards he made his, and the holidays, birthdays, and ripped up pillows and toys we experienced together.

As we walked in to MSU, we received yet another gift. With the nature of Max's disease, it has affected the way he goes potty. In the past few weeks, he pees in a low stance (more like a girl dog pees) and in the past few days you can see it has become increasingly uncomfortable for him to pee. It is even painful to watch and I often have to wipe away tears when taking him potty. But, as we walked into MSU, Max walked right up to this cement pole and threw his leg in the air as high as it would go, and although he was still wearing a diapy :), he pee'd. He stood there in the male dog stance, leg lifted as high as it would go, him looking as proud and healthy as can be, and he pee'd. It brought tears to both of our eyes. We stood there amazed, laughing, and crying with HUGE smiles on our faces. Not a gift to most.... but definitely a gift to us.

We were ushered into a room and ahead of time we were able to choose who we wanted in there with us so we chose the head of Oncology, Dr. Paulo Vilar and the head of the radiation team, Leanne Magestro. Both of which took such great care of our Max during this journey and meant a lot to us. Max was pretty fiesty, and I had warned Colin that we can't be fooled by this behavior and let that deter us from this decision bc Max always was pretty hyper and had lots of adrenaline at the vet. Even after a double treatment of both radiation and chemo, he would come bursting through the doors dragging a vet tech behind him. They tried to put in an IV while we were in the room with him but his vein blew bc he couldn't sit still, so they took him into the back.

Colin and I had brought his bankie with us and his bed and we sat on the floor starting to feel panicked. I started to rock, as you know I do when I am stressed, and we both started breathing fast to the point we couldn't catch our breath. We both started crying and we exchanged words about how difficult this was. I grabbed his hands, we took several deep long breaths together in unison, and I said "We can do this. We can do this Colin".

Then, in walked our Max. He was much calmer now, and I am convinced and ever-so-thankful that they probably slipped him a micky in the back. He immediately laid down in his bed. He snuggled up against the side like he always did at home and he put his head down. I bent down and asked him for a kiss which he gladly gave me. Colin got one, too. Leanne asked if we were ready to which I replied, "No".

I always use to sing to Max and Sammy. We have a special song I always sing at bedtime and Max would fall asleep to it. It's been a tradition for quite some time. I wanted to sing him his bedtime song. So, I took a deep breath and started to sing. I had to talk through most of it and Colin chimed in, too, as we sang these sweet words.

The rocket racer's all tuckered out,
Max & Sam in pajamas on the couch,
Good night moon will find the mouse,
And I love you.....

God speed little Max,
Sweet dreams my Max.

Oh my love will fly to you each night 
On angel's wings.....
God speed.... 
Sweet dreams.

Sweet dreams my love.
Sweet dreams.

With that, I let her know we were ready. Max fell asleep soundly as he rested against the side of his bed with us holding him in our arms.

Our sweet Max was gone.

Just like that, he gained his angel wings.

It was very peaceful. It was fast.

Our boy was gone.

We have no doubt when he opened his eyes in heaven, he bum-rushed Jesus and took a flying superman leap into his arms and slobbered him with kissies, just as he did to us all the time.

We are sure that Max has probably had many time-outs in heaven, just like he did when he went to daycare, from annoying the other dogs too much. We have no doubt that he is running free, whole and healed, and oh so happy. He is probably wiping his wanks on things, barking and trying to eat bees, and he is probably so so happy.

Our boy has wings and is watching over us. He is our guardian angel and has left paw prints so deep in our hearts that we can feel him every day. Our brown almond shaped eyed boy with black & white soft fur that kissed us till our faces were raw is now in heaven.... and we are forever changed bc of him.

Cancer did not win today my friends. I have always said and will continue to say, that we ALL won bc we knew a black and white dog named Max.

xoxoxo,
Brenda