Our New Dog, Max

It took me 25 days to force myself to write about Elliot. Losing him left a gaping hole in our hearts and our home. Joel had crying jags, and I fell into a quiet funk. Only four days after Elliot's death, a beautiful Golden Retriever was available for adoption at the store. Everyone--and I mean everyone--pointed her out to me, and indeed, Zoe was beautiful and we liked each other. I told myself, though, that it would be easier to have four dogs than to have five dogs. I phoned Joel from the store and he did not call back. I met Zoe's foster mother, an ex-student of mine, and it seemed that the woman was truly attached to her anyway. Zoe went home with her foster mom.

Fast-forward to yesterday. A cute Saint Bernard mix with a puppy-like face was there. His name was Max.