While going through a miscarriage in late 2006, many people would console me by saying that I had an “angel in heaven”. But, that was not the first time I heard that sentiment. Although that was my first miscarriage (and pregnancy), my first angel in heaven was my dog, Max. I can’t explain what he meant to me without telling you his story.
After losing my childhood dog, Pushka, I went to the ASPCA to find a new friend. I wanted a Dalmatian that was very friendly and incredibly energetic. When I went to take the Dalmatian out of the cage, Max was in the cage next to him, shaking with his head down in a pool of his own urine. He was so frightened and wouldn’t come anywhere near the front of the cage to say hello to me.
I asked the handlers to take him out for me and they warned me that although he wasn’t mean, he wasn’t friendly. They explained that he was an orange collar. What that meant is that he was not supposed to be shown up front. He was deemed un-adoptable and would be euthanized since he was not fit to be around people. My dad and I demanded to see him and to be honest, the volunteer was very cooperative. She knew Max was supposed to be in the back but really wanted him to be placed. But, in order to pet him, the ASPCA dog psychotherapist had to come in to teach us how to get Max to trust us (yes, that is an actual profession, I swear).
Max was so badly abused that he was removed from his original home due to several neighborhood complaints. He was burned by cigarettes, stepped on and even whipped with belts and never trusted anyone (his previous owner was prosecuted and subsequently served time for cruelty to animals). For the first 8 months of his life, he was someone’s punching bag. And for their stupidity, Max was seen as unfit for a home. The thought of that still makes me angry. We spent about an hour or two just trying to get Max to let us pet him.
I couldn’t leave him there; I fell in love with him — instantly. As soon as I brought him home, he jumped in my bed where he slept every night for the next 14 years (much to the dismay of my husband, who patiently waited 1 whole year to even pet Max!).
Max died of congestive heart failure in 2005. Losing him was one of the toughest things I have ever had to go through. My heart and my spirit have truly never been the same. Many people hear Max’s story and say how admirable it was for my dad and I to “save” Max. But I don’t see it like that. In my mind, Max saved me. I needed him so much more than he needed me. And I’m so grateful for having the privilege of taking care of him.
I love my babies now, Kenzie and Shelby but Max will forever be with me, my first angel in heaven.
