Max Westgarth: R.I.P. July 1990 - 27th of September, 2006

My dog Max passed away one week ago today. By his last days he was simply too old and would no longer eat. I was eight when he first set paw in our overgrown backyard. At that time everything outside of his immediate one metre radius was exciting and new, a world of potential to be explored post haste. He was a Kelpie/Blue Heeler, despite the store owner's claims he was pure bred, and was my friend and companion through 16 long years of my life. He was a city dog that dreamed of a pastoral farm life, until his late mid years his favourite game was to 'herd' basketballs and tin cans around the yard, dreaming they were sheep and cattle under his absolute command.

Max had personality, he was not for everyone, he responded to few, taking refuge in the familiarity of those he knew. He was loyal, very loyal. Every morning he would come bounding in through the back door, pumped with energy, feet skidding on the polished wooden floor, excited to greet the new day, excited to see me. I wish I could appreciate my days as much as he did... how often do you give the gift of unbridled energy at that time of morning? How often do you welcome all those around you with such consistency? The evenings would be a repeat show, welcome home.

Max, I will miss you, it is a problem when the life spans of Man, and his Best Friend, do not do each other justice.