The final drumbeat

If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it because he hears a different drummer. Let him step the music which he hears, however measured or far away.  - Henry David Thoreau

We should probably have this carved in stone and make it the official motto for our merry band of misfits, human and canine. But it is especially fitting for Max, who most definitely heard the beat of a different drummer. It was a beat heard only by Max to the exclusion of most everything else.

I got Max in 2013 from the Fluvanna shelter. He was thought to be about two years old then, making him probably 12 or so now. It quickly became obvious that Max was special. He was extremely high strung and easily overstimulated, which he dealt with by making the most awful screaming sound while spinning in circles chasing his tail. Max didn't relate to other dogs in a normal manner, he just couldn't. All of our dogs soon figured that out and they just let Max do his own thing. Whenever a new foster came in, they would try to befriend Max, and eventually they'd figure out that they couldn't. Theo did the best with him as anyone we ever had, because he would meet Max on his level, and not try to change him.

A hefty dose of Prozac got the screaming and spinning under control for the most part. Max had to have something in his mouth at all times, usually a stick, but a ball or really anything would do. Other than that it was really a matter of managing Max by establishing a routine and sticking to it. I really think that Max's behaviors and peculiarities, in a human, would be diagnosed as autism. In the beginning he was a foster dog but I really didn't think an adoption would work out. He was gorgeous and he attracted a lot of interest and attention because of that, but Max was not the poster boy he appeared to be.

It took a while for me to accept Max's limitations and to learn to deal with them. I wasn't always as patient and understanding as I should have been. He could be extremely frustrating to deal with even in very simple matters, but Max had a very limited understanding of humans and our world, or his place in it. We did develop a routine that Max learned, understood, and followed pretty well. Variations or changes in the routine were not well tolerated. But I think he was pretty satisfied with his life around here, I certainly hope so. 

His age has been showing more and more of late. His gait had become unsteady and his back end was growing weaker, although he still managed the stairs every day and still joined us for romps around the pasture. Lately his appetite had really fallen off and he seemed more "off" than usual, even for Max. Last night about 4:00 a.m. he had a massive seizure that seemed to last forever, though it was probably over in about a minute. After he recovered, he got up, had a drink of water, and eventually settled back down for the rest of the night.

In the morning he went about his usual routine, he even ate a little bit although not much. We were all back up in my office where most of the dogs settle down for post-breakfast morning nap time. Max has a couple of toys around to occupy his mouth and he brought me one of them, a ball. I threw it for him expecting him to go get it and then go off elsewhere as he always does. But today Max did something he had never done, he brought it back to me to throw again. I just tossed it across the room, he didn't have to run far, but we did that several times. It was the most normal dog behavior I've seen from Max. I speculated that the seizure had hit a reset button in his brain and returned it to dog mode. 

I wasn't prepared to have Max endure additional seizures, which surely would have been coming, so I called the vet and made an appointment to finally quiet Max's drummer in a peaceful manner, which we did this afternoon. 

It was hard to have a relationship with Max. He was the best looking shepherd I've ever had but he was completely unlike any other shepherd I've ever had or known. The human/shepherd bond is usually so tight that each can feel what the other is thinking and feeling. I can't say I ever had that with Max. He walked through this world alone in many ways and I regret that I couldn't do more for him. I did love him and I hope he knew that, at least he knows it now.

Max, running the Maya and Gigi