It’s been quite a while. I hope you’ve all been well.
This time, I want to talk not about a special person, but about my dog, my companion.
This is the story of my farewell to MAX, who was with me for 16 years and 3 months.

— He Departed with the Passing of the Typhoon

On the day a typhoon swept through Tokyo, my long-time companion and dog, MAX, who was like a son to me, passed away to heaven.
People say, "He had a good long life," when a dog reaches 16 years, over 80 in human years, but for me, it’s not that simple, and I find myself moping around every day.

For the past few years, he couldn’t even relieve himself properly and wore diapers. He needed medication for suspected prostate enlargement, and this year, it was discovered to have turned into cancer. Even after surgery in May, the cancer had metastasized throughout his body. The doctor’s words after the surgery were, “He has about three months to live.” And, “You should also prepare yourself for euthanasia.”──Though I felt an urge to grab him by the collar and yell, “Are you kidding me?!”, I had no choice but to face the reality head-on.

As his bowel movements became increasingly difficult, I sensed his death was approaching. Day and night, I patiently helped him with his needs using rubber gloves and Vaseline. When even that started to lose its effectiveness, I took him to the veterinary clinic we had frequented for years for an enema. When the enema tube wouldn’t even pass there, the staff muttered, loud enough for me to hear, “The time has finally come.” Still, stubborn as I was, I was introduced to a renowned veterinarian, Dr. Yoshike, by my friends JIMBOW and Girolamo. He received intestinal cleansing treatments twice a week at that clinic. I spent my days knowing that the day was uncertain, but undeniably approaching.

However, thanks to Dr. Yoshike’s dedicated and heartfelt care, who said, “I will do my best until the very end. The word ‘euthanasia’ should not be used lightly,” he was saved, and so was I.

Despite all that loving care, he suddenly passed away.

But as soon as the funeral was over, I went to thank Dr. Yoshike, and he said this to me:

“Sensing your struggle with euthanasia, MAX probably chose to leave on his own. And considering my advice to let him indulge, you did everything for him. I believe he was happy to have eaten fatty tuna belly. You gave him a wonderful final experience.”

Medicine is not just about technique; it’s also about the comforting words like those from Dr. Yoshike that save us. It made me realize anew the importance of words.

— He Was Truly Loved

I contacted everyone who had doted on him and would ask, “How’s MAX doing?” every time they saw me. The messages I received were all so warm; they truly mourned MAX’s passing and, at the same time, showed concern for me. I am so, so grateful.

Amidst this, I truly felt how much he was loved by everyone.

His gentle nature, rarely barking; his consideration for people and animals; his increasing charm with age; his genuinely apologetic expression when he had an accident; his endurance, never showing pain even when diagnosed with cancer; his greed for delicious food until the very end; and his positive attitude towards life itself...

Hearing these words of praise for him brought me joy, and at the same time, I realized he was loved and happy, and I felt proud of him. Simultaneously, I thought, “I want to be like him.” I may be a foolish owner, but I truly felt this deep down.

16 years and 3 months──He taught me many things. There were truly many points I needed to learn from him.

And through MAX’s death, I realized that I am surrounded and supported by truly wonderful people.

— The Many Things MAX Left Behind

In fact, I lost my father to cancer this past March. I have experienced consecutive close-to-home deaths this year. These experiences with death have made me reflect on many things.

And MAX left many things behind for me.

Not just life itself, but all relationships inevitably come to an end, and a time for goodbyes arrives. People start relationships knowing this from the beginning, but to avoid the shock and pain of loss, they avoid getting too close, not focusing too deeply. I feel like more and more people are becoming like this.

Certainly, goodbyes are shocking. I feel that deeply with MAX’s death. Tears well up in my eyes countless times a day.

However, encounters bring even more joy and happiness. Therefore, I want to continue to cherish encounters, build deep relationships with people, animals, and all living beings, and share moments of joy and happiness together.──MAX left me with the resolve to do so.

— Deep Affection for MAX, Who Lives On in Photographs

This time, I was able to use photographs provided by those who once photographed MAX. Thank you.

The photo by photographer Junji Hata is from when MAX was about one year old. It’s a nostalgic shot I styled myself, themed around Jacques Tati’s "Mon Oncle." The slight fading of the colors is because Hata specially printed it for MAX. This was taken over 15 years ago, before Hata used digital.
Incidentally, the reason I started keeping a miniature dachshund was because Tati owned a dachshund named Daki.

The photo by Mineaki Masuo is from the now-defunct magazine "Bessatsu Esquire." Shigeru Takamatsu, who directed it and chose MAX for this shoot, also featured MAX in "GQ" and "Lightning," which was the catalyst for MAX's (?), leap as a model dog. Another shot was used for covers and posters, making it a commemorative photo for MAX.

The photo by Mitsushi Inada was taken during downtime from a product shoot. When MAX was energetic, I often brought him to the studio. MAX, who charmed everyone, was always a staff favorite. I fondly remember going fishing and hiking with MAX and Inada.

The photo by M.S. Park is a two-shot with Hirokazu Hayashi, who is now an actor. Looking at this arched posture, I was reminded of the words spoken by the cremation staff when he was cremated: “What strong and beautiful bones.”

— MAX's Final Departure: His Face Was My Own

His face looked just like his usual sleeping face.
He looked so peaceful and cute that I took a photo.
With folded hands.

Through MAX, I met many people, shared wonderful times, and lived my life. MAX has now departed for heaven, but I want to cherish what he left behind and make my life even more wonderful. It seems like this is what he would want. And I feel it is my role as an editor.

MAX, thank you so much.
And to everyone, thank you so much for doting on MAX.

Finally, on the night MAX passed away, I reread the words of the 14th Dalai Lama from "Words to Embrace" (East Press) by Yutaman. I want to share them now with myself and with all of you.

“I do not deny the sorrow of losing my parents and younger brother, but
I approach death philosophically.
Old friends depart, and new friends arrive.
It is like one day ends, and another new day begins.
What matters is whether they were meaningful friends,
and whether it was a meaningful day.”