Max was not a pet that I chose from the get-go, rather part of the package when Pisinee and I met. Buddy, Pisinee’s other dog at the time, was already later in age, content at lounging around the house for hours on end. I heard stories about Buddy in his prime, much like you might hear tales about your Grandfather in his youth. Max on the other hand, was about 6 when I met him, and a terror.

Once, A pet sitter sent us an update while we were away on vacation; “Max is funny about putting on his harness.” His “Funnyness” became a long running joke. Max was only 16 lbs but his bite was lethal. If you wanted to put his harness on, you had to rehearse the procedure in another room. Why you ask? Because he sensed fear and lack of confidence. You had about 5 seconds to get the harness on, and if you went over that time, or fumbled the order of operations in some manner, you were done. His jaws would lock upon you. It meant he just wasn’t going outside that day. You could try again tomorrow when the tolerance reset. We started just leaving the harness on him all the time if someone was to watch him. It got so bad, I actually bought falconry gloves.

If he had something in his mouth that either you or he saw value in, you were not going to get it. You could try the home version of the popular TV game show, “Let’s Make a Deal.”

You could show a treat, and if he felt the offering was of appropriate trade value, the game would move to phase 2. At this point he was no longer evaluating the trade but rather trying to figure out how to “double dip” or get the coveted 2 for 1. Eventually, he would make the move, either trying to get the trade without releasing the goods (anything from goose poop, dead toad, chicken bone) or do a quick “smash and grab” before returning to the original treasure.

When the Falconry gloves really became useful, I am sorry to say, was when if he decided to poop in the house. He would immediately turn around and eat it, and if you got between him and his prize….well, good luck to you sir. You could put all the bottles of hot sauce on it you wanted, he was going to recycle that morsel. The other long running joke was why a 6 year old dog was this out of control. Did Pisinee not make any effort to train this dog? Her answer was always the same, “Rescue dogs are notoriously hard to train!” I would respond that you acquired this animal when he was only a few weeks old. To which she would modify the original defense to, “These breeds are notoriously hard to train!”

It wasn’t until later I learned that if you held him upside down (imagine dropping Houdini into a glass case of water wrapped in a straight jacket) then, and only then, would he release the object.

We tried various medications, but he would fight through the disorientation and be even more violent in the cloud of confusion. One time in Vermont after spending all night at a Vet office where they sedated him (cause that’s the only way the staff could deal with him) we got him in the car and he proceeded to just mash on Pisinee’s hand like the Shark in Jaws eating Quint. The weirdest part was that Pisinee just sat there letting him tear her hand apart like chicken bones. Ahh, all those nights waiting for him to pass the chicken wing bones he found to ensure his intestines or esophagus were not lacerated, I digress.

When I first met Max he was a condo dog. His days were spent tearing up tissue paper and having complete meltdowns when Pisinee went off to work for 12 hours. I slowly transitioned him into an outdoor dog. He went from always being inside to endless adventures.

The first trip was to the shores of Lake Michigan with Pisinee’s family from Thailand.

Max had never been introduced to such things as tides. He saw a bird running along the sand and went in chase. He collided with an oncoming wave breaking on the shore and went summersaulting into the surf. It turned out, heading head first into things was normal operating procedure. The cement curb in front of our house was a prime example. He would get all excited and just sprint back to the house from the road, ignoring the change in topography, gradation, elevation and just hit it at full speed, taking his legs out from under him. To his credit, it never seemed to bother him.

During COVID we considered buying a motorhome and traveling the US. We rented one and took a test drive to Ohio, parking overnight in various vineyards. On one stop he ran throughout the vineyard with other dogs for hours.

It was one of his happiest days I do believe. As the sun went down, we watched him sprint between the rows of vines. That day did end with Max almost getting his trachea torn out by a Seeker dog, resulting with him and his mother having PTSD for a while, but that’s all beside the point

We nixed the idea of the motorhome and opted to rent cabins throughout the US during COVID. We loaded my motorcycle and bicycles on the back of the SUV and a cheap bag of belongings on the roof and were off. Modern day Beverly Hillbillies.

Our first stop was Maine, where Max got to dip his toes in the Atlantic Ocean for the first time.

I love the above picture because I think it was the last time Max had a professional grooming experience in his life. It was on this long trip that Pisinee started cutting Max's hair herself. At first he would have this long hair all around his face with the rest of his body hair short. Basically looking like a male lion (going in line with his threatening disposition). This was a result of him not allowing you near his face at any time. Eventually we learned the trick of wrapping him in a blanket (holes cut out for his legs) and hanging him from the shower curtain or back of a door. I would stand next to his face with a bowl full of treats and Pisinee would attack from below with clipper in some strange sheep-sheering 4H event at the State Fair. Still minimal face action. She got better at cutting around the face to the point where he no longer looked like a lion, rather the Lorax.

I remember our walks to Knights Pond. He would lounge on the rocks while I swam. Excitedly whining for me to come carry him into the water, before returning to our cabin in Lincolnville.

On that trip we took a ferry to Monhegan Island. We scrambled along boulders, looping the coast of the island. Max leaping up and down for over an hour, showing incredible stamina before eventually giving up below a bush and us having to cut back across to the ferry dock. Or next stop was Vermont where he enjoyed running through the corn fields, until he got pneumonia and we spent a few days driving the 2 hours back and forth between Stowe and Burlington, sometimes sleeping in the Vet parking lot.

After a stop in Maryland, where Max terrorized my friend's pitbull, we headed to North Carolina. We spent an hour with Max along this creek. He had the best time running up and down the banks and through the perfect dog-appropriate-depth water.

Another day, we drove down to South Carolina for a hike on the Magnolia Trail and got this video of him among the fall colors.

Up next was Florida. Max loved the beach, but with those bug eyes of his, he would constantly get eye ulcers due to the abrasive sand.

On to Arizona where we lived on small horse ranch. Here Max befriended a pot-bellied pig named Hormel.

Max and Pisinee would watch the sun rise over the mountains in the Tonto Forest to the East. On our way to California, we stopped at the rim of the Grand Canyon. We asked someone if they would take our picture and they were shocked when, what they thought was our baby, turned out to be Max all swaddled up to stay warm.

Throughout this trip when we stayed at hotels, we were too cheap to pay the pet fee, assuming they allowed pets, so I would have Pisinee check in and open the lobby side door, allowing me to sneak Max inside in a blanket, again appearing like a baby. That same evening of the Grand Canyon picture, upon returning to the hotel we were scurrying down the hallway and a couple stopped next to us, trying to get into their room across from ours. They were carrying an actual baby, and we joked about how difficult it was to travel with babies. Right at that moment, on cue, Max, having reached his threshold, let out a growl as he tried to squirm out of my gasp. We gave out a, “Nice to meet you!” as we pushed through our door into the room.

Our final stop was Sonoma California. This stop was not a favorite for Max. He never wanted to go outside, and with all the deer ticks, Pisinee was fine with that. Here is a shot of Max hiding behind the bed, where he resided most of that month, when it wasn’t dinnertime.

A shot of Max and his/my birthday lunch. Another of his highlights was a trip to Dog Beach. He got to run with all the other dogs. They did not want to hang out with him, and he could not seem to understand why they kept running away. He was sad with the rejection, until giving up to sleep with me in between the dunes

When we got home from that trip I built him a dog house. I think he went into it once, only when I put food in there

I ramped up his adventures rather quickly. As we continued to get him out of the house

I set up a basket on the bicycle and would ride with him and a portable speaker playing Jack Johnson music.

I even paddled with him on my SUP. On one occasion I took him out in the river and he was laying on the board. They had a crew regatta that day and various outboard motorboats were going up and down the Huron river pacing the teams, causing large wakes. Well, I fell off, along with Max. He had his lifejacket on, and I eventually got him back on the board, but from then on, he was only watching me from the dock We Also took him on some kayaking trips where he would just sit at the front. He was not too careful. We had to keep him on a short leash, or he would just fall over the side.

He also enjoyed boating. I feel like I am creating a dating profile for him

Next, we had to figure out the logistics of how to take him with us to our house in Thailand for the Winter. That first trip was very stressful for all.

Pisinee did not want him to travel under in cargo, for good reason, and because he was a “Short-nosed dog” most airlines did not allow anyway. That meant around 24Hrs of flying time under the seat and about a 30 hour total day of travel. If you did not already gather, Max was not one to do things he didn’t want to do. Near the top of the list was being zipped up into a bag not much bigger than himself. We practiced at home, experimenting with different sedative combinations and when to trigger the medicine, knowing none of them would last as long as we needed them to. You can read more about or first travel with him here, but let’s just say it was a challenge. By far my favorite part was when someone 3 rows up said “There is a dog up here” and my rat brain thought, “oh there are 2 dogs on this flight?” No, there were not 2 dogs on that flight. Anyway we made it.

I mentioned a lot of adventures on bikes, kayaks, paddleboards, but by far the coolest was riding with him on the scooter through Bangkok Thailand

I would be steering and Pisinee would wear a backpack on the front of her body with him in it. He would try to look around me to watch where I was going. This was quite intelligent as you need to keep your head on a swivel in Thailand on a scooter. You never know when you need to jump off to avoid a head-on collision.

The crazy adventures became a little more subdued as he got older but still had the occasional brief moments of excitement, I was lucky enough to get on film.

Much of the final years consisted of sitting on the porch. No longer chasing squirrels, but satisfied with just watching them run around him.

That dog definitely had his own personality that drove you crazy but just like that difficult teacher you had in high school, it was that challenge which made them the most memorable.

Since Pisinee and I were both at home most of the day, the 3 of us were always together. People often look back when pets or people pass and say, “I wish we had done more together” but I never had that feeling with Max. I appreciate all the time and truly feel we made the most of those all-to-brief years.

MAX 2011 – 2025 “A Life Well Lived”