It was a cold night in December 2011 when he arrived. Alone in his crate, he lay waiting.  Waiting for his people whom he had yet to be introduced to, to return home from Christmas Eve Mass.

Santa brought him to our home that night.  The small King Charles Spaniel had no idea the love he was about to enjoy. That night was a very special Christmas, for Joey, Rebekah, and Aaron had no idea the joy they were about to experience. Julie knew all along.  If not for her, he would have not arrived that night. One simple decision impacted the lives of so many.

As the Mayernik Trio entered the home, the realization that Santa brought them a puppy was quick. Rebekah squealed with delight for what seemed like forever.  Aaron asked if we could keep him, and Joey stood quiet in the foyer, shocked in utter disbelief that Santa had brought the only thing he wanted on his Christmas List. A puppy.

The kids named him Max. Maxwell Birkenstock Mayernik in all.  The middle name was chosen to pick on me, and I was happy to oblige because that’s what families are. A tight-knit unit of inside jokes, laughter, forgiveness, and connection.

We stayed up late that morning. Joanne, Julie’s sister was there to celebrate. We cooked a large breakfast of eggs, pancakes, sausage, and bacon while we watched Maxwell flop around the living room trying to gain his footing on the slippery wood floor—tail wagging.  Constant running.  An abundance of love. Opening presents with his paws and teeth with child-like fervor.

From that moment on Maxwell was a cherished family member, and for almost 13 years, Maxwell was the truest embodiment of unconditional love. Always there to look at you lovingly with those large brown eyes, to snuggle and lay down at your feet in that awkward space behind your knees.

He was kind, loyal, smart, fast and stubborn. If you needed a friend to lie and listen he was there for comfort.  If you need a companion to go for a walk he would oblige. If he wanted to figure out how to open the gates to the upstairs or open doors he would problem-solve.  If he got the zoomies you knew it was time to play, or if he got off his leash he would be five houses away before you could blink. If Maxwell knew that Chippy the Chipmunk was in the drain he was determined to stay all day and sniff him out.

Maxwell was oddly quiet during USA/Canada customs, which we appreciated. He loved long car rides, especially to Michigan to see family like Grandma Mayernik, Norbert, the Late Grandma and Grandpa Quayhacx, and their pal Snoopy. His nose prints are still on the rear passenger window of my VW. I do not have the heart to erase them just yet.

So many memories. So. Much. Love.

It was as if he knew that Christmas Morning that it was his job to be the glue of the family.  To give each of us exactly what we needed, and at just the right time, and just the right amount. His only requirement was under-the-chin rubies and forehead kisses in return.

Maxwell was not a needless barker.  If he spoke it was because he was communicating something very specific.  “I need to go outside, I need water in my bowl, there is another dog on the street walking by, I left Bunny upstairs, OMG, Joey is home!, Aaron is playing hide and seek, Rebekah I would like a treat, Joe it’s time to leave work, Julie it is time to go to bed.”

So many memories. So. Much. Love.

For the past 3 years, Maxwell struggled with too much fluid in his lungs, an enlarged heart, and the stubbornness to act like everything was okay. At times he hobbled on three legs with a paw in the air yet insisted on jumping on the couch or onto his favorite spot over-looking front yard through the window sitting on the back of the armchair. The medication he took gave him more time, but it was never enough. It would never be enough. None of us are ever guaranteed another day. We all have to live like this could be our last, with no regrets, that each day is a new day, to be better, to be stronger, to be wiser, to be the one that finally captures Chippy. 

Maxwell died surrounded by the comfort of his family this year the day after Labor Day.  Held by Joey until his last breath. we all sat quietly shocked in utter disbelief that our best friend was truly gone.

Maxwell will be forever missed and the holidays will never be the same.

Thank you Maxwell for your love.

Thank you for being such a good companion to my three children.

Thank you for giving me and Julie the pleasure of watching you all grow up together.

We love you Maxwell Birkenstock. Be a good boy until we see you again.