Max has crossed Rainbow Bridge

Max passed peacefully yesterday morning in my arms. Even those who did not know him were teary eyed including our wonderful vet.
It took a few moments for him to pass, and I had bought along his favorite tennis ball to hold on his journey to the other side. (Remember, in Max's world all was good if one had a tennis ball!) his last gesture was to release the tennis ball where it rolled by my husbands feet; shift his head deep against me and look me in deep in the eye. There was such peace there, such understanding within him.

Without me even asking the vet then came in with some clippers and a beautiful little granite keepsake box on it and gathered some of Max's hair and put it inside for me then handed it to me.
I was sad because I had parted ways with my best friend and partner of so many years that he is intrinsically a part of me, but yet I felt peace. Such warm peace inside me. My heart still clutches when I write or speak of him, the voice may catch in my throat, but inside I am truly Ok with all of this. Honestly, I am more at peace with Max's release than I have been with any other animal I have had to be there with. I think our connection was so close that I truly understood how much he needed to be released from the pain and how thankful he was for it.

I always wondered when some had mentioned that often a surviving pet exhibited some special ritual, look or act that the departing pet used to do. As if a torch had passed between them. I had never truly seen this before, until Max's passing. Normally when I would come home from somewhere Caesar would be right there at the door all anxious to see me and hyper. When we cam home yesterday he just followed me quietly, I hugged him once very tightly and opened the little granite box where Max's fur was. He sniffed it so very gingerly and then his head seemed to wilt a bit. He came up and very tenderly put his head on my lap. For all of yesterday Caesar acted much more dignified, more 'Max like', being more of a gentle guide than his usual rambunctious, buffalo crashing self. I repeated the same ritual with Monty, our rat terrier, (letting him sniff the box) and he immediately put his little paws up indicating he wanted me to pick him up. Once I had him in my arms he wrapped his paws around my neck like he used to do as a pup and just snuggled against my shoulder in the very spot Max had snuggled against me. He looked sad, but yet his little nub was wagging a mile a minute.

Both dogs knew it Max had passed and they seemed to be just as at peace with it as I. Strangely it was my husband who seemed to take it the hardest, maybe because he had never really "talked" to Max and said his goodbyes, I don't know. At lunch we reminised about Max, and by evening time all of us, the whole family was at peace. It was indeed the strangest and most CALMING of letting a loved one go that I had ever felt.

I expected to cry myself to sleep that night, but instead I actually found myself with a feeling of inner calm, and even a smile on my face as I remembered the silly way Max would tilt his head with a tennis ball clenched inside his mouth. "Play with me? Come on, I gotta tennis ball! Honest, life is better with a tennis ball, come see!" I knew he was safely across rainbow bridge and more importantly that he was HAPPY and pain free. I know he will be waiting with that tennis ball, and someday I will be able to take it and toss it back to him. Until that day, I am good...And so is my beloved Max.
Rest well my dear partner.
Maxmillian "Max" von Sydow, 6/5/1997 - 8/9/2007
Max had told me he wanted me to post one more of his messages (see other diary entries) he was my guide, and I dutifully would write them down, in his words. He whispered to me on thursday morning what he wanted his last words to be, as usual, they were comforting and will be comforting for all who have ever lost a pet or felt the sorrow. I will write his last story this weekend and post it here for all of his friends. Thank you.

Leave A Comment | 3 people already have