Maxx: alpha dog

This is Maxx, not Maxine, not Max, just Maxx. We had the name (think ‘How the Grinch Stole Christmas’), before we had the dog.

Maxx is our alpha female. She is pushing 15, which for a Labrador is OLD. She’s actually a Lab/Chow mix, with more of a chow head shape and coarse coat.

True story: when she was a puppy, as puppies will, she chewed on everything. One day I noticed what I thought were ink stains in her mouth. Worried she had gnawed on a pen and perhaps still had dangerous shards of plastic in her mouth, I wrestled her to the ground (even then she was a big dog), rooting around trying to find those potential choking hazards.

It was only once I had a good look at these ‘ink spots’ that I remembered that Chows have purple tongues. What I thought were stains, were actually purple freckles.

Maxx has arthritis and doesn’t move as fast as she once did. Having to leave harassment of our squirrels to Hershey (our other Lab), even though she still insists on being the first one out the back door.

Lately Maxx’s favorite pastime is sleeping… on her comfy bed in the living room, in a patch of sunlight at the backdoor, in wallow of soft sand in the yard, or at the foot of my bed when she can manage to pull herself up. She dreams a lot now. I watch her twitching and gruffing, maybe she’s still chasing those squirrels.

Her once jet black coat is turning a russet shade, grey peppering her muzzle and chest. Her eyes dulling with age and cataracts, but her bark deeper and more resonant. She still commands the other pets with a single bellow.

She has been a cherished member of our family since the day she arrived, small enough to fit in the crook of my arm. Even at 80 pounds, she still thinks she’s a puppy, wanting to snuggle when she no longer fits on anyone’s lap. After being away from home, Maxx meets us at the door, demanding we acknowledge her need for a warm hand on her back and scratch behind her ear before she lets us into the house.

When my kids were small, and we would be rough-housing with them, if Maxx thought we were getting too rough, she would insert herself between me or Hubs and the kids, often grabbing our arms in her mouth and trying to pull us away… protecting ‘her’ kids. Thinking of that today, I feel that familiar lump in my throat, knowing Maxx would fight for my kids, even against me and their dad.

I dread the day the Maxx is no longer with us, or we need to make that painful decision to let her go peacefully which sadly could be very soon. Maxx is more than just a dog, or simply a pet, she IS family.

*repost – originally published May 10, 2010