Max was a mix of Norwegian Elkhound and Wolf, and he already had his name when we first saw him, leading us to initially believe he was a purebred wolf. Initially, he belonged to my sister Rosa, but over time, he became more attached to me. Max had a fondness for being cradled like a baby and followed me everywhere, which at times was bothersome; however, I later appreciated his affectionate nature. One day, while I was taking the trash cans to the curb, Max lay beneath the carport observing me. As I took the last trash can to the street, a large dog unexpectedly appeared and attacked my leg, causing me to fall. Before I could call for help, Max sprang into action in a way that no other dog I have owned before or since has ever done. He sank his teeth into the attacking dog on the neck and hurled it across the street. The dog fled, and Max came over to lick my leg. My mother assisted me in bandaging the wound, and I subsequently received rabies shots. From that moment on, Max remained by my side. When Max passed away, I was overwhelmed with grief, having been with him as he departed this life. To this day, I have not forgotten the extraordinary bravery he displayed that day, and I miss him dearly.