Today was one of those days when Maverick looked at me like I was the most horrible person he’d ever met, simply because I wasn’t amused with him playing tug of war with his leash in the middle of the field, and because I needed him to go in his crate so I could go to the dentist.

I’m not feeling great – a toothache has been lurking for a week, dentist appointment made on Monday, scheduled for today – it appears I have an abscess brewing and I need a root canal.    Not being able to bite is taking its toll, I don’t feel like eating and most of my energy is going to healing this thing – which will be easier on my body now with the help of antibiotics.

So I have little patience for puppy shenanigans.   On my way home from the dentist, I stopped at Walmart to fill the scrip.  I’ve never been to the Walmart pharmacy, because I truly do not like that store, but it’s where my insurance tells me to go, so there I was.   I dropped off the scrip, the girl told me they’d page me when it was ready, so I wandered about picking up and putting down things because I didn’t feel like shopping, I just wanted to get home.   After a while, I went back up to the counter, and sat on one of the handy, uncomfortable, benches.   The bench that was being roundly kicked by the little child behind me, whose mother didn’t stop talking on the phone long enough to do more than utter a few unapologetic sorrys my way.    When I realized that the line forming behind me was getting longer, I asked someone if they actually called you, or you just got in line.  Oh, I was informed, you just get in line.   Sigh.    So ten more minutes in line and I finally got my meds.

On the way home, I had a talk with Max.  One of his friends is scheduled to join him at the Bridge this week, and I wanted to make sure he was aware, and would help the little guy when he gets there.    He’s always relied on Max to be his protector, and I know that will continue at the Bridge.    Then I started talking to him about Maverick.   In the midst of my venting, I felt a bit of peace- and a remembrance of the days when Max drove me crazy with his puppy antics, and how I learned from him that those days are short, and even though they’re not fun at the time, you look back and remember with a smile, and remember the sweet puppy who gives you kisses when you ask, “do you love me?”  and has learned to jump up and give a hug when you say “up!”   You forget the demon dog who tries to knock you down and drag you through the field.   You remember that it won’t last forever.

Thank you, Max.   Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow.   Never leave me, never leave you.