Max.

This is Max. He's a good little Walker Treeing Coonhound, and always very curious. He loves rummaging through closets for tasty shoes, standing on kitchen tables to get a better view, and climbing out of fences because there is probably someone fun to hang out with on the other side. He also loves to wrestle, cuddle, and look at you with the most loving hound dog eyes ever!

Max adopted me a couple weeks ago when I was out on a run. (Yes, run. More on that later.) He ran right up next to me and just kept on going for another mile. No collar, no microchip, and no one looking for him at the pound, so Max became ours. The only problem with that: Max climbs. He climbed out of our little Gumbo-proof chicken wire fence. Then he climbed out of our neighbor's 6-foot tall wooden fence. So, it became very clear that Max wasn't staying with us.

We took him to get neutered, checked him for heart worm, got all his shots, bought a kennel to keep him safe when we were away from the house, bought a LOT of raw bones because he loves to chew, stood guard over him every second he was in the backyard, and started looking for someone with a fence that he couldn't climb over!

We had nine exhausting, fun-filled days with Max. Ainsley and I cried as he walked down the street with his new friends. Lucy the cat brought us a flying squirrel to say thank you for getting rid of him! Gumbo is still depressed. I'm still conflicted about not having spent $5,000 for a new fence. Love that Max!

Home from surgery.

Nibbling on Gumbo.

Saving a bone for later.