June 4, 2022

By Bob Elliott

Canadian Baseball Network

It didn’t matter what kind of plane was flying overhead.

It could have been an Airbus A220-300, a Boeing 737 MAX or an Airbus A321XLR.

Our dog Max would chase the planes away barking as planes descended or ascended overhead.

It didn’t matter if the jets were headed to the southern runway complex, 06-24. Or if planes were taking off from the east, flying west they departed from runway 24 left or right.

Max, a Cardigan Welsh Corgi, was an attack dog on three-inch legs. Or maybe four — if you liked him the way the scouts say.

He scared off all the planes and 18-wheelers which chugged up Winston Churchill Blvd. Max would race to the back of the long yard barking all the way.

This piece isn’t about the Toronto Blue Jays or the best Canucks for the draft. But it has something to do with something personal. If you are looking for baseball, you should click and move elsewhere.

Our home has been a quieter place the since our Max passed away on Friday. We’ve owned four dogs: Dexter, a beast of a boxer, Christopher, a Corgi, Holly, a terrier and Max. If you’re a pet owner you may want to stay with us for this maudlin bit of self-indulgence.

With the loss of a family member, and that he was, there should be closure. Dogs are more giving than humans in the way they provide the purest love and unbridled affection.

We’ve always thought that line about dog years being equal to seven years of people was some corny Hallmark line. Why shouldn’t dogs, our most trusting and loyal friends, live as long as people?

He would have turned 15 years of ago in November. So, that’s 104.3 years in dog years.

Dexter used to play fetch chasing down balls off the chimney at the corner of College an Johnson in Kingston. Chris was the best four-legged outfielder to ever roam our back yard. When my son, Bob, was 10, he’d hit tennis balls off a batting tee. And Chris would track down the liners into the corner or bouncing off the fence.

Christopher could track a wall ball, grab it in his mouth and sprint to the tee. He was as agile as Tony Fernandez on pop ups and never became angry if a liner whizzed by his ears.

Max was more protector than ball chaser. He had an 0-4 record against skunks and we think he pitched a shutout chasing squirrels. Max had the good genes. His mother died last year at age 16.

Max was a welcome addition to the family and filled our house with boundless enthusiasm -- if he wanted out, or decided it was time to eat. The rest of the time he was as docile as a tabby cat.

My son best summed up the role dogs play in our lives. When we lost Christopher he said, “You know, you can say any foolish thing to a dog, and the dog will give you a look that says, ‘My God, you’re right! I never would’ve thought of that!’”

Walking Max down the street a neighbor would say: “What a cute dog, such a nice coat ... why did the vet shorten his legs?”

I told Toronto Sun sports reporter Mike Rutsey about how I was going to try to write and do justice to the dog’s memory. Now, you must understand Rutsey can be a tad sarcastic, oh, maybe once or twice a week. He told me this wonderful story about how when the time came for his dog to be put down, the vet came to his house. Rutsey held the dog in his lap, the dog went to sleep and everyone cried.

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The past two weeks for the Canadian Baseball Network writers and their pets have been rough.

Laura and Matt Betts lost their beloved Benji, a Bichon/poodle mix, who was going to be nine in September.

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When we lost Christopher the vet sent a sympathy card. Inside the envelope was a poem entitled Rainbow Bridge ...

Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.

When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge.

There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together.

There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.

All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor.

Those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by.

The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.

They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance.

His bright eyes are intent. His eager body quivers.

Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.

You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again.

The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.

Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together....

Author unknown ...

Elliott: R. I. P. Our dog Max