Max Says No
IT WAS A TYPICAL HOT, sultry day. I was going about getting ready to do something I didn't want to do, but “had” to be done. I turned around to tell Max, my black and white, crossed-mix mutt, to get in our old scratched, dented, and faded red pickup truck. We had a job to do, and he liked to come with. I did the work, he supervised. That was the deal.
Before I could get the words out, Max stood on his hind legs and clearly said, “No.” Then trotted off on all four. Three black, one white paw. A white-tipped black tail held straight up as if to say, “I dare you.”
I didn’t have time to chase after him, as the truck was out in the gravel drive, just in front of the old faded-red wood dairy barn. It had to be loaded. The job had to get done. And nothing was going to get done if i
