14th October 2008

My dog and best mate Maxwell died yesterday. We'd been for a walk in the reserve at the end of the road and he was doing a dawdle as was his usual bent on the way back so I pushed on and carried on with some work in the garage. Half hour later I noticed he wasn't hanging around so looked down the road and there was a white blob laying on the grass verge. I guess his heart finally gave out, he'd become a bit rheumatic and short of breath while walking so I guess a quick end was a merciful conclusion to his life.
My first contact with Maxwell was when I saw his photo in a local giveaway paper in Christchurch in June 2001. Dog on death row was the caption. I trundled down to the dog pound and several people were interested in adopting him. He was very dirty and dishevelled with long dank hair and smelled terrible, but the spaniel eyes made you want to love him. Maxwell was an English Springer Spaniel. It came down to me and a youngish couple from Lyttelton on who would take him home. I asked the lady if she worked and she said no, so I said that they should take him as he would be alone all day while I was at work. I gave them my business card and said to ring if things didn't work out. Next morning, the phone rang and it was them. Did I still want the dog? Apparently they had a cat and to Maxwell cats were meant for chasing and terrorizing. The vet who checked him over reckoned he was about 4 and a half, but couldn't be certain. Maybe he was a bit older so I guess he was somewhere around 12 or 84 in human terms. This last year much of his day has been spent dreaming doggy dreams on his day bed in the lounge, feet twitching chasing imaginary rabbits, he's laying there now with a flower at his head. The feet twitch no more, but he is in peace. Later today the neighbour and I are going to dig a grave at the end of the paddock looking out to sea. My mum and dads ashes are under trees there and Maxwell will watch over and keep them company.

I shall miss our walks at 4pm each day Maxwell and the heavy sighing at the bedroom door in the morning urging me to get out of bed. You have been a true and faithful companion. Rest in Peace.

TC