Fred writes, "Much of what we have learned about cruising we have learned from him.
Remember the old chestnut, 'Live each day like it's your last?' Not Max. He wakes up every day like it's the best day of his life. Hopping up on our bunk in the morning, he looks at us with a goofy grin, wondering when the fun will start. . . .His glass is never half empty. How could we not catch some of his infectious enthusiasm?
We don't fear bad weather, but we have learned to apply the Max Factor when cruising. Very early on, Max became adept at moving to leeward (the sheltered, down-wind side of the boat), but when he can't get comfortable, when he moves to the cockpit floor and gives us the 'What's this all about?' look, then it's time to rethink our strategy. . . .When Max is miserable, we have to admit we're miserable, too. It's amazing that it takes a dog to knock some sense into you.
Little things never bother Max. . . .It makes us realize that we often fuss about little things. . . .From Max, we have learned instead to just pause, force a grin, and move on.
Max may be laid back, but he can also be decisive. Vacate the padded helm seat, he's there. Drop a steak, it's gone. Wishy-washy he is not. We, on the other hand can dither forever. . . .Max's advice would be: if you wonder if something should be done, just do it.
We can tell when it's 0800 or 1700 because he points to his food dish. He never misses a meal. . . Max reminds us twice a day that we are what we eat. Eat well, function better.
He never misses a chance to investigate something. . .His love of exploring reminds us to look more closely. . .The value of such moments is timeless.
Max is old for a Brittany spaniel. One of these summers he won't make the cruise with us. When that summer comes we will remember the greatest lesson he has taught us: you can't sail forever. Until then we will remember when we wake up each morning that this will be the best day of our lives. Thank you, Max."
Make today, and everyday the best day of your life.