Andrew wrote this epitaph for Max, and it's a loving tribute. For that reason, I've included it here.
Bought in a cake decorating store, you first came into our lives when I was in fifth grade. You were so small, you fit inside Mom's coat pocket. You were so small, in fact, we had to tie a small bell to your collar so we could know where you were.
You fit into the family immediately, even if you would run away from us in the front yard. You were loud, and funny, and sweet. You were good with everyone who came into our lives, both young and old (well, maybe with the exception of Myron and Soto, that is).
You grew with us and went from a tiny, all black puppy to a greying, distinguished Elms family member. You were there for all of the ups and downs. You had a preternatural sense of how to comfort us, snuggling up to us when we were sad or knowing to curl up at our feet to watch over us when we were ill. Thank you so much for that.
You saw us go from children until some of us had children of our own. We're so happy that Ellie got to know you. She loved you so much that it was no coincidence that her first word was "doggy". We're thankful that it was her four-legged pursuit of you in Bakersfield that was the impetus that taught Ellie to finally crawl. And we will always remember how she would light up when she saw you appear over Skype.
We love you and will miss you immensely. You were part of the family--a true Elms brother. I'm sorry it's taken me this long to post this for you. It's been a hard time to get past all the raw emotion and find the right words. Here's to 20 great years!
We love you, Max.
