"...Like a Hole in The Head"

Dear Readers,

Do you remember Max? Neither do I. So let's refresh: Max is a Leonberger puppy that I used to live with before my Dad up and moved to Wisconsin. Now 13 months old, Max weighs in at a whopping 135 lbs, but is still about as smart and graceful as a sack of bricks. I've recently been told a story worth re-telling, about Max and my sister.

My sister went to visit my Dad and Max in WI. Max was tied on the Run in the backyard and, mid-stride, the rope caught around one back leg but the momentum of the other leg continued to carry it towards his head, somehow lodging his back leg into his collar. Then he face-planted into the ground and got another leg tangled in the mess and started to panic. The entire neighborhood (population: 2) heard, and came over to help hold him down to cut the rope and collar off while he yelped and flailed his free limbs and teeth. In the midst of the confusion, Mariel's face had a brief encounter with Max's Fangs. She said it hurt, but they were more concerned with the dog's potentially broken leg than a fat lip. When they were done, Mariel started to feel light-headed. So she pokes her tongue around in her mouth to assess the damage and her tongue came out the other side!!! We're probably all going to have to walk dogs in Hell for keeping him after that, but I think we'll hang on to him at least until he severs one of our limbs.




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