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I met Max when I was about 3 years old. My family and I were at the pound looking for our dog that ran away, not expecting to leave with a new one.

As we were getting into our car, a man pulled up with a beautiful Australian Shepherd puppy. He told us he couldn't have pets at his apartment, and he begged us to take the puppy so he didn't have to take him into the pound.

With tears in his eyes and a reluctant look on my mom's face, he successfully found a new home for Tristan. However, we thought the name Max suited him better and changed it right away.

Max became the first best friend I ever had; we grew up together. He slept by my bed when I was afraid of the dark, let me lay my head on him and cry when I had my heart broken, was the biggest goofball when I needed a laugh, and a star athlete when I needed a playmate.

He was also my body guard and a great sport when I wanted to paint his claws, though not the best tanning partner, as he enjoyed the shade. I looked out for him, too. He was very afraid of thunder and fireworks, so I would hold him in my arms all night long until the noises stopped and his body quit shaking. I wouldn't let anyone lay a hand on him, but I would lay into anyone who tried.

Though his physical presence is no longer with me, I know he'll always be with me in spirit, protecting me as he always has. My buddy, my pal, my goofball, my sweetheart, my angel, my best friend, my Maxie Boy.

Story submitted by Brittany from Bakersfield, California.

This story was originally shared on The Animal Rescue Site. Share your very own rescue story here!