The Story of Maxwell . . .

The story of Maxwell begins on Christmas Eve while Buzz was shoveling a neighbor's walk. Andi (our erstwhile college student neighbor, home for the holidays) called me over to to see the puppy she was watching. And Maxwell, the cute little bugger, plodded up to me licked me a few times, then inadvertently scratched my face with his paws. With that, I went back to shoveling, the scratches stopped bleeding and that was that. . . or so I thought.

Onto Christmas evening when Sidetrack and I attended our neighbor's annual dessert reception. When the topic of the puppy arose, Andi made a call to her friend, and the next guest to arrive was Maxwell.

Apparently, Andi's friend found the little guy wandering the streets of Coralville on Dec. 15th. She placed calls to the police, the dog pound and local shelters... but after 10 days, no one called to claim the pooch. Unfortunately, Andi's friend was/is in no position to have a pet (19 years old, working 60 hours a week, living in an un(pet)friendly apartment).

And so with minimal debate or discussion, and long sappy, droopy, pleading (translation: can we PLLEEEAAASSSEEE keep him?) looks from Sidetrack, I buckled under the weight of holiday spirit. A day later... Maxwell entered our lives permanently.

He's a Blue Heeler mix, about 8-9 weeks old and healthy. Koko almost ate him, Tootsie is annoyed but tolerant, and Truman is curious from a healthy (safe) distance. And so this new chapter begins.