Max likes to go. Go outside, go back inside, go in the car, go around and around (and thankfully I don’t mean go in the bathroom sense, though he does like to do that outside a lot too).


He likes going in the sense of moving. In fact he is more or less built for that. While I get around well on two feet, he has four to continually propel him.

And often he really gets going on our walks. I even have to jog to keep up. I have a hunch that it is usually because he thinks he will get fed when we get back, and, hey, that’s a good enough reason for me too.


Max has taught me something in his persistent going, especially when he is ready to go when I am not, when it’s hot outside or I am tired or busy or just do not want to do anything. Whether he goes fast or slow he goes and is always ready and willing to go. He could be half asleep and if he hears me walking to the door or getting my shoes, he is up and ready before I get those shoes on.


Max has taught me to go even when I don’t feel like it. He has taught me that although I often need a push and a reason, it’s always worth it. It is worth it because in going I experience life in all its beauty and mess and warmth and cold and life and death.

Max has taught me that going is important because that is how I grow and learn and live.

Going does not mean that I always have to be busy though. Max is full of energy and his going is an expression of that energy, but I also see something significant in his disposition to go.  Max’s going is not born out of a need to fill his life with activities, but rather an eagerness to live his life to the full.


And Max does experience that fullness of life because he is eager and ready to meet it anywhere at all times.  Even though he spends much of his life in a small apartment, he is no prisoner to apathy. He keeps a desire for life smoldering within himself that looks for opportunities to go and seizes them with vigor.

So thank you Max for teaching me to go even when I am lazy or apathetic. Thank you for teaching me to develop a disposition of going so that I may be ready and willing to experience life in whatever ways I meet it.