And just like that, he’s five years old

Saturday was Maverick’s birthday. Five years have passed in a flash, but it seems that Maverick does everything fast. 🙂 My wild, funny, goofy, smart, red headed boy is apparently middle aged in dog years but try telling HIM that! He thinks he’s a teenager and as much as he can drive me nuts, I wouldn’t really want him any other way.

On Monday we finish one class, and on Wednesday we start another. It’s been a wild ride with him these past years and today I took a few minutes to ponder on how far we’ve come. There was a day at the park when he got the zoomies on leash, and I stood in the middle of the whirlwind, laughing so hard I don’t know how I held on. There was a day when he got away from me at that same park, and ran directly to the place I knew he’d go, the tennis court. There was a time when I locked myself in the bathroom and cried because he wouldn’t stop tearing up the house, and wouldn’t listen and was just an absolute holy terror.

We blocked off rooms and the stairs for a few months. He couldn’t be trusted to not try to fly through a window if there was a bird outside. And then we opened up the house, and he proved that he was, indeed, not a baby brain ALL the time.

I wanted a velcro dog. Be careful what you wish for. He is attached to me like white on rice. (Is that racist? I’m pretty sure it is) He rarely leaves my side and while that’s a wonderful thing to be so adored, it’s also exhausting. My sister calls me his emotional support person and although she’s wrong about many things, I think she may be right about this one.

Five years ago I was in a very bleak place. Max had gone to the Bridge, after months of fighting the cancer that couldn’t be cured, no matter how hard I tried. Bear was working second shift, so I was alone, again, for all the hours of darkness, it seemed. And dark those hours were. I cried more for Max than I cried for most people I’ve lost. He was my heart, my constant companion, my rock when things were really bad. Five years later, I still miss him every day.

The amazing thing, well, one of many, is that Maverick is actually Max’s great nephew. I like to think that Max saw my grief and sent me Maverick, knowing full well that this ball of fire would keep me from having time to wallow in tears. (There were tears, yes, indeed, but not the kind that left me sobbing from a heart that was not just broken, but shattered into a million pieces.)

Maverick has slowly and steadily knit those pieces back together. He is the center of my world – and yes, the Bear knows that. Maverick is the center of his world as well.

So Happy Birthday to my wild child. May you have 10 more birthdays – at least – before you join your big brother (Max) at the Bridge. I will love you forever.

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5 Responses to And just like that, he’s five years old

  1. I like thinking that Max had a hand in sending Maverick to you. Not because of their related blood line, but because he knew you needed a ball of fur who would occupy your thoughts and feelings so much that your angst at losing Max could be translated into your frustration at all of the wild child things Maverick does! Happy birthday, Maverick!

    Liked by 1 person

    • I frequently call Maverick the “anti-Max” because they are so different! Max would be shaking his head at this kid’s antics. As much as he makes me crazy some days, that little red ball of fur saved my life.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Happy Birthday, Maverick!

    Liked by 2 people

  3. Bitey Dog says:

    Happy Birthday to your red-headed whirlwind!

    Liked by 1 person

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