We were always clowning around like that. In winter in the deep Alaskan snow we'd walk around like big black 'n tan Christmas trees dangling white ornaments of snow balls. The disadvantage of having hair versus fur. Max was big galoot, that's for sure, but then we both were. His upright, "Uncle Mark", would have to buy Max rabbit to eat due to his skin condition - ordinary dog food gave him rashes. In summer we'd chase marmots at Arctic Valley, ground squirrels in the Chugach mountains and spawned out salmon in Campbell Creek. I remember one morning in winter there was no snow to reflect any light, it was so dark and cold that both of us nearly walked smack into a moose. What a hoot that was. Max was a friendly dog with a commanding presence. I never saw him start a fight, he was always the one to stop them or prevent them from happening in the first place. Master called him "The Sheriff." He was my friend.
Sadly, Max is off to the
rainbow bridge, having died suddenly about a week ago. God speed Max, god speed. You will be missed.