Today was the 42nd annual Honolulu Marathon. The starter’s gun triggered a fireworks extravaganza at 5 a.m. when about 22,000 folks launched themselves on to the rainy streets of pre-dawn Oahu.
The Kenyan and Ethiopian runners finished about ten minutes later. Here’s some video from our local paper The Honolulu Star Advertiser:
About the Kenyans and Ethiopians…I kid, but not by much. Those guys and gals are fast. I’ve watched them run by and my two lasting impressions were that their legs start immediately below their shoulders and their feet barely touch Planet Earth.
Max, the AJF and I participated in the Honolulu Marathon the same way we do for the famous Ironman competition: we roll over, pull up the covers and go back to sleep. Three heads in the bed.
The little white dog has a funny relationship with our communal bed. His official spot is at the foot of the mattress directly below the AJF whose limited height means there is enough space for a small dog. Were he on my side he’d have to contend with two huge feet that generally extend over the edge of the bed.
In the course of any given night Max roams about the bed. If I am on my side he deposits himself with a resounding thud in “the pocket,” the concave space formed by my fetal position.
If the AJF and I are both stretched out he will get in between us and lie on his back hoping for a late night belly scratch.
Max has a set of stairs by the bed so he can come and go at will. On warmer summer nights he frequently will leave the bed and sleep on a stretch of cooler tile floor.
Even in winter he will get up, descend the stairs and have a sip from his water bowl before returning to snuggle again. The problem is that he makes an unholy amount of noise for a tiny dog and he persists in slamming himself against us when re-occupying “his” territory.
The bed plays other roles in Max’s life. When angry he will retreat to the bed, bury himself under the pillows and start that strange digging behavior we have all seen dogs do. Humped back and with a look of furious intent on his face, he burrows into the bottom sheet as if to dig his way to a place where more compliant dog owners might live.

Here he is…the Maltese bed cave diver coming up for air after a major hissy fit and bed digging episode. All because we needed to go to the grocery store without him.
His bed digging is quite different from his carpet digging.
The carpet dig is done with one paw in a desultory fashion while rotating about a pivot point roughly under his fuzzbutt.
The resentful bed digging is a rapid alternating of paws. No fooling, you can really see that he is angry.
Other digging behavior occurs after baths. As soon as he is released from a good towel drying he rockets to my favorite easy chair, jumps up and starts digging into the chair. We think this activity, like bed spelunking, is an expression of canine indignation.
For such a ball of fluff the Malt has a giant personality. Some folks wish they could talk to their dogs but after watching a few of these digging episodes I think there are times when I’d rather not hear what Max might have to say.
Categories: Max's Stories
Max looks so ticked! Really? It takes the two of you to go to the grocery store?? The sheer indignation–dig away, Max! The stairs–that picture says it all! 🙂
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Hahaha…there comes a time when going to the grocery store is a form of entertainment and I admit we sometimes treat the expedition that way. I do like to prowl the wine and beer aisles as well as looking at the gourmet cases where I admire many of things I can’t eat anymore or can’t afford!
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Black Tot and the poodle do this digging thing…total concentration on heading for Australia via the mattress…and especially after bath time and – in the case if the poodle – clip time. It doesn’t do to disturb them…if looks could kill we’d long be dead.
The poodle sleeps on the end of the bed on my side, Black Tot collapses in a heap behind Leo’s legs. All is well until the Alsatian howls to go out. I get up….and on return the poodle is on my pillow and Black Tot has stretched herself over the whole lower half of the bed. Both feign sleep. Accordingly I am an expert at sleeping in positions of which the kama sutra had no knowledge.
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I suspect it is a plot among the beasts to grab the best spot on the bed. A classic case where one distracts and the others capitalize on a moment of inattention. I’ll bet they slip the Alsatian an extra nibble or two as compensation for that howl.
One fortunate thing with a white fluff like Max is that he contrasts nicely with the floor covering. Were he a darker color, I am sure I would have stepped on him more than once.
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You misinterpret the bed digging. It is landscaping-everything must be “just so”.
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In that case he is one furious landscaper. The facial expression is funny in its intensity. We call it the…wait for it… “Mad Max” look.
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I’m with you and the marathoners. What crazy addled brain thinks running 26 miles is fun?! Noooooo, thank you. If I have to go 26 miles, I’ll take a cab, thank you very much. 🙂
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You can tell how much the runners enjoy the experience by the agonized look on their faces. Contrast that with the faces at your local pub. Now, who is having more fun? Ladies and gentleman, I rest my case.
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Depends on whether it’s closing time at the pub.
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Yup, have NEVER seen a runner smiling while running. 😊
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I’m with you although I’ve been in a bit of a Grumpy Cat mood today. Right now, I feel like I deserve a limo and a bottle or two of champagne.
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I love the steps up to Max’s royal throne. No wonder he feels like royalty although I’m not sure whether you know what we Australians refer to as “the throne”.
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Lottie has the same digging behavior as Max. Why do thry do that, i wonder. She then curls up leaning her back against my body 😄
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