Max.

Max. He was about 16 years old, give or take a year. Happy to the end.
I will always remember him as being the second smartest dog I ever knew. (Sammy was the first -- and if you look back into the archives, you will learn about him.)
In his youth, I used to take him on long walks in the woods around the reservoir. He could go off leash run. He couldn't wait to get in the water! He loved to swim. On one trip, he saw a deer, and ran off to chase it. I didn't know where he went, and he gave me a few grey hairs worrying....but back he came.

He loved to play ball. Even in his old age, when his back legs could barely hold him up, he still wanted to play ball.
I was doing a job for Max when the Who's bassist, John Entwistle, died. I had MTV on, and they were doing a Who retrospective. "PinBALL Wizard" came on, and as I singing along, I look down to Max. He was standing there with his ball in his mouth, ready to play. I can't refuse his request.

Max was surrounded by love when he crossed over to the rainbow bridge today. I'm sure he is making new friends and someone is throwing the ball for him.