A Year With Leo: 9 months with Max

August was the third anniversary of Leo's death, and it would have been his fifteenth birthday. Few border collies - few dogs - make it to fifteen. Leo had 12 years, most of the last 9 pretty good ones. I think most dogs - most people- would take that ratio.
August 25 also marked 9 months with Max. He is fantastic. Just a wonderful, wonderful dog. Just tonight (yes, tonight - at night!) we were at the dog park and he showed this. First, walking in to the park in the dark he moseyed over and said hello to some people sitting in the dark. I couldn't see them, but heard a voice - "Whose dog is this? He's awesome!". Yep. That's all I can say. Later, he was playing with a little black-and-white pup that was very happy to have a much bigger friend. I asked the owners how old. "One. And yours?" Nine and a half. No one believes me.
They played for a half hour in the late summer unseasonably warm unrelenting heat. Max then played bally for another 5 minutes.
Sure, he can be a handful. Another day of going out once and hour because of a bad belly (2nd time in 2 weeks). Whining to be entertained when he's bored, which is a lot. Grumbling about anyone else but S getting on the bed when he's there. Giving the cat the eye. Yep, all that. But he is something special, and he's great. The only thing I wish I could change is that 9 1/2. I wish I had him at 3, or 4, or 5. But he's going to get some great years. And again, I think most dogs - most people - would take that.