Maximus is super dog. From unknown origins, from cage number 40 after four months of incarceration I met Max. He was one of the only dogs not barking in the shelter facility and he was quite focused on me, a bit like he knew me, but more serious than silly. I took that to mean he was logical, he was. After years of only having carefully selected, pedigreed pups, I chose an adult from who-knows-where. And it took me three visits to commit, but he kept being the one. Not to say that he was perfectly behaved when I got him (there’s a reason he was stuck there for four months), but it just wasn’t that hard, he was a quick learner, nicely food focused and wanted to please me.
Max was supposedly a stray. As my husband says, “he’s always running away, maybe 12 feet from your side.” I truly don’t know how his original people got away from him. I’m thinking it was in a pickup truck, because when I first got him he kept looking at and thinking about following certain kinds of pickups. Well anyway, they missed out on a good deal, ‘cuz he can do just about anything from serious protection, playing Sandy in the “Annie” play this summer to licking out the bottom of peanut butter jars.