Ch. Tri-Sett Bashful Baron Maxwell, “Max”

Was it so very long ago that I descended the basement stairs to find a pen with many black and tan balls of fur? This was my first exposure to baby Gordon Setters, and there was one in particular who looked right at me. That one seemed to be saying, “you finally got here.” Although Karen had me interact with all the puppies in making my selection, this one kept escaping and running over with a toy and pulling at my hair, regardless of whom I was playing with. Needless to say, he picked me as his owner, and neither Karen nor I had a say in it. Enter Max into my life.

Max loved everything about life . . . he was inquisitive, an ardent soccer player, loved kids and his four-legged neighbors — especially Maggie, the shy lab in the next yard. He was not a fan of loud noises, and would run to the slider during a thunderstorm, barking at the lightning that he apparently thought was an unwanted visitor. He never was quite sure about the October 31st phenomenon that brought strange looking little creatures to our door. One night, while my family was playing cards around the dining room table, Max decided to redesign my sister’s loafer, which she had removed, into a more stylish open-toe sandal. The only saving grace that night was when he let out a roar over what we thought was nothing, until my father found footprints and a scratched bedroom window the next morning. The police were notified and confirmed there was a robbery in the next block. He went from bad dog to hero in less than 24 hours.

Max began his show ring career at the age of four, when according to Karen he had matured. Hmmm, it was more like “who’s judging who.” I know Max had his favorite venues — Springfield and Oyster Bay, L.I., and his dislikes — Hartford Armory and N.J. And weather . . . I’m sure Karen will never forget showing Max not far from Cape Cod on an overcast muggy July later morning. Just as Max entered the ring, the sun came out and turned everything into a giant steam bath. It only took one pass around the ring for Max to find the judges table, and on the next go-round, he dove under the table. Although he didn’t win, the judge apologized for not being able to give him the win. Max wasn’t fazed in the least, having reclaimed his spot in the back of Karen’s van with a cool towel and fan….

Max actually did love to show off, and was in his element at the Big E, his favorite site. It didn’t take long for him to get his title, although Karen regarded him as a handful in the ring. He was a beautiful dog, and when he wanted to, could strut his stuff with the best of them. He taught us a lot, most importantly looking at things with curiosity and wonder. There wasn’t a tissue or napkin he couldn’t snare without the owner even suspecting it was gone. And challenged us to tire him out. Life was far too interesting to sleep through. A trip to Arcadia when he was a year old brought a smile to my face when at the end of a full day of hiking, Max curled up by the fireplace, too tired to even try to climb up on the bed.

Max seemed to leave us the way he entered… unexpectedly. He was a great teacher, and will always have a special place in our hearts.

— Ginny and Jeff Walsh
 

Best of Winners, Farmington Valley Kennel Club 

Owners

Ginny and Jeff Walsh

 

Litter brother to:

• Ch Tri-Sett Blackjack Bacon (picture)
• Ch Tri-Sett Bold’n Brassy JH (picture)
• Am/Can Ch Tri-Sett Bayou Breeze JH
• Tri-Sett Bounding Becket

View Max’s Pedigree