Seven years ago I returned from a joyous trip to Macedonia to some unexpected news from Leslie, our Airedale lovin' daughter. She had found a dog equal to Kelsey, our much loved giantess who had passed the prior summer. Max, a Ouachita, the largest of the Airedales, was residing in an Airedale Rescue facility.
Probably like most rescue dogs, Max had his story. He ate his owner's clothing. He ate the plastic laundry basket that housed her dirty clothing. He ate plastic lawn chairs. His diet had resulted in three necessary but expensive surgeries and there was no indication that his behavior would change. Max was living in a condo, his owner was facing more time demands at work, and recognized that his welfare depended upon the painful decision of giving him up to someone with more space.
For Max, Badboulder must have been Eden. Colonel, our springer, was waiting at the green gate, tail a wagging. The two were best buds from first sniff. Max had room to roam, loved the shady guesthouse courtyard, befriended our cats, and never ate another non-food item. He does love chewing on a good stick and digs at will in his own yard. He does love food and once weighed in at one hundred forty-seven pounds. I had to switch from dog bones to green beans for treats as I was the culprit that aided and abetted in his weight problem.
Badboulder is on the map for a band of javalinas; they pay us a nightly visit. They will devour bird seed and fish food if we are so forgetful as to leave it out. Only once have we witnessed any fear on the part of the Boulder Mountain herd of javalinas--the night Max pushed me aside and bolted out the gate. Gravel flew as the entire herd scattered and ran full out. Max quickly returned from his bit of fun with a big smile on his face.
Max barks at thunder but doesn't seem fearful. It's more of a "just bring it on" bark. What really puts the fear in Max is a bath--absolutely no water for our Max. He savors haircuts and brushing but we gave up on the baths years ago. Max is the most loving dog an owner could ever enjoy and we will not put him through that trauma. I have a few hundred pounds of baking soda to brush through his hair before we entertain house guests. We'll see if that recommendation works.
One rainy winter Max and Colonel ran away. We'll never know how they opened the gate but we do know they were in pursuit of great adventure. Upon finding them missing, David and I walked, alone on separate pitch black mountain trails with our flashlights and walkie-talkies in a rainstorm. During our three day search, we put out fliers and canvassed door-to-door. We went to every cafe and the town bakery as we thought hunger would set in. Water was not an issue as all the washes and streams were full and the rain just kept coming. No one had seen two dogs. On the third day, David found them in the afternoon frisking about on a mountain trail. They jumped all over him as if to say "Where have you been?". It was a parent/teacher conference day for me and by the time I arrived home at 8:30 p.m. all those dogs could do was thump their tails, both were too sore to rise. They laid around a couple of days, then were as good as new.
Max has one habit that is not endearing, he is consistently curious about skunks.
Max is quite intelligent in one regard. He forgoes rubbing his big, wooly head all over me or goosing me if I am dressed for school or going out. If I'm in grubbies, then I get his full attention. During my chemo days, I became very weak and falling was a huge issue for me. Not once did Max rub, nudge or push. Upon recovery, I was fair game. Max has ESP for his humans!
Max and Badboulder have been the proverbial match made in heaven. He embraced the boulder environment, perhaps there is a genetic stirring going back to the days when his breed hunted mountain lions . Max takes his job of protection seriously and barks at all intruders. His size alone say "Do not enter without permission." It's all show; Max is the most lovable of dogs.
Max and Colonel are living in their eleventh year. Max is beginning to show his age a bit--sleeps longer and sounder, getting up takes some effort at times and it's back to green beans for treats in an effort to lose a tad of weight.
Max is a vital part of Badboulder. His story is a testament for Airedale Rescue.
FROM THE KNOTHOLE: Remember when Crocodile Dundee was on the streets of New York and some street punk pulled a switchblade knife on him? Dundee said, "You call that a knife? This is a knife," as he pulled out a knife half as big as a machete. Well, I think Dundee would say, "Now, that's a dog." There may be bigger dogs, but I've never seen one as big as Max. He weighs more than Badboulderlady who is about average weight. Max does not have a temper. He never growls at people. We have never seen him the slightest bit aggressive toward humans. Just playful.
a parting shot from bbman: been to the drive-in movies lately?
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