About a year and a half ago, I lost my grandfather to cancer. Since my family was part Chinese, we were busy observing a lot of Chinese customs and beliefs after his death. Our house was busiest since everybody seems to like congregating here a lot, and probably since my Grandpa used to live here. A few days before he was buried, a panicky housemaid called me to the back of the house. Apparently she found my half shitzu-poodle doggie Max dead. I was shocked since I just checked on him when we came home a few minutes earlier. I hurriedly went to him and found him lying on his side, looking like he was asleep, but he was definitely not breathing. I was devastated. I had just lost my grandfather and now my dog. I just couldn't take it anymore so I broke down and cried. A while later I felt a cold nose nudging my leg. Our doberman Maui sat down next to me and put her head on my lap comfortingly. I was surprised but her presence did make me feel better.
Maximilion or Mad Max as I call him was not really mine, more like a family dog. But I loved him best and loved him like he was mine. I call him Mad Max because he loves to zoom around the garage like he was mad. He was really animated, lively and very affectionate. I bathe him and took him to the vet myself, basically I took really good care of him. He never got sick, did not have any illness that I knew of, so I was baffled as to why he suddenly died. My old-fashioned aunts keep telling me that my grandfather probably brought Max with him to the afterlife as a companion. Although the thought creeps me out a little, it is also comforting in a way that I know my granddad and best doggie have each other, since I know my grandpa loves Max and Max will be a great companion to him too. Since then, I have tried not to develop deep attachments to our new dogs since I know losing them will hurt again.
Mad Max
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