Maximus

On August 8th, Max will hit a milestone no one wanted to reach: TWO YEARS at Animal Aid Society.<br/>Before that? He was in another shelter.<br/>And before that? Prison, part of a dog/prisoner rehabilitation program (Just to clarify: Max has no criminal record. Unless you count stealing hearts.)<br/>Max is a 67-pound orange enigma: short-haired, sturdy, with impossibly tender eyes that make you want to wrap him in a blanket and rethink your boundaries. We're not sure what Max is a mix of (Lab? Hound? Traffic Cone?), but if you stop by to meet him, we'd love to hear your guess.Max was adopted once, for a month, and he gave it everything he had. But the home was too much for our sensitive boy: kids, another dog, constant motion - Max doesn't do well with whirlwinds. He shut down. He came back. And he's been waiting ever since. But the dog who returned then - skittish, overwhelmed, unsure - isn't the Max you'll meet today.<br/>A kind, talented trainer worked with our volunteers and together, they've helped him swap panic for trust. Slowly, the real Max emerged.<br/>At his core, Max is a world-class snuggler... a lap-seeking, blanket-burrowing, ballad-loving marshmallow who wants nothing more than to curl up against your side and snooze while you sing very off-key. (Favorites include Blackbird and Rainbow Connection. His taste is impeccable. His standards are forgiving.)<br/>One time, Max flushed a baby bunny from the woods. Big dog, tiny creature... everyone braced for the worst.<br/>But Max? He gave the gentlest "let's play" bark, booped the bunny softly on the head, and then sat beside it like an encouraging big brother. When the bunny mustered the courage to flee, Max just watched him go - no chase, no fuss. Just good manners and a curious heart.<br/>And while Max enjoys the woods, a good romp, and the occasional lure course run, his true happy place? It's curled up beside you, being the little spoon. He's a homebody at heart - soft, affectionate, and deeply content when he knows you're near.<br/>He'd thrive as your only pet in a peaceful, adult household - somewhere calm and steady, where love shows up in quiet ways. Someone kind enough to help him through the things that still worry him (like baby strollers and surprise bicycles), and wise enough to know that the best adventures sometimes happen on the couch.<br/>Here's what Max is looking for:<br/>***A calm, patient human or pair of adult humans.<br/>***A low-traffic household.<br/>***Gentle reminders that the world is safe now: He's made amazing progress, and he's ready for more. We'll even help cover the cost of working with a fantastic, force-free trainer - someone Max already trusts.<br/>Max is neutered, vaccinated, healthy, and about seven years young.<br/>And he's ready.<br/>Ready to trust.<br/>Ready to love.<br/>Ready to go home.<br/>Come meet Max at Animal Aid Society, 80 Butler Farm Road, Hampton. We're open every day from 9am to noon, even on weekends and holidays.<br/>Interested? Come for a visit any day of the week - 365 days a year between 9am - 12pm. Hope to see you soon!<br/><br/>PLEASE NOTE: Animal Aid Society observes a 40 mile adoption radius to facilitate post adoption support and follow ups.

On August 8th, Max will hit a milestone no one wanted to reach: TWO YEARS at Animal Aid Society.
Before that? He was in another shelter.
And before that? Prison, part of a dog/prisoner rehabilitation program (Just to clarify: Max has no criminal record. Unless you count stealing hearts.)
Max is a 67-pound orange enigma: short-haired, sturdy, with impossibly tender eyes that make you want to wrap him in a blanket and rethink your boundaries. We're not sure what Max is a mix of (Lab? Hound? Traffic Cone?), but if you stop by to meet him, we'd love to hear your guess.Max was adopted once, for a month, and he gave it everything he had. But the home was too much for our sensitive boy: kids, another dog, constant motion - Max doesn't do well with whirlwinds. He shut down. He came back. And he's been waiting ever since. But the dog who returned then - skittish, overwhelmed, unsure - isn't the Max you'll meet today.
A kind, talented trainer worked with our volunteers and together, they've helped him swap panic for tr

On August 8th, Max will hit a milestone no one wanted to reach: TWO YEARS at Animal Aid Society.
Before that? He was in another shelter.
And before that? Prison, part of a dog/prisoner rehabilitation program (Just to clarify: Max has no criminal record. Unless you count stealing hearts.)
Max is a 67-pound orange enigma: short-haired, sturdy, with impossibly tender eyes that make you want to wrap him in a blanket and rethink your boundaries. We're not sure what Max is a mix of (Lab? Hound? Traffic Cone?), but if you stop by to meet him, we'd love to hear your guess.Max was adopted once, for a month, and he gave it everything he had. But the home was too much for our sensitive boy: kids, another dog, constant motion - Max doesn't do well with whirlwinds. He shut down. He came back. And he's been waiting ever since. But the dog who returned then - skittish, overwhelmed, unsure - isn't the Max you'll meet today.
A kind, talented trainer worked with our volunteers and together, they've helped him swap panic for trust. Slowly, the real Max emerged.
At his core, Max is a world-class snuggler... a lap-seeking, blanket-burrowing, ballad-loving marshmallow who wants nothing more than to curl up against your side and snooze while you sing very off-key. (Favorites include Blackbird and Rainbow Connection. His taste is impeccable. His standards are forgiving.)
One time, Max flushed a baby bunny from the wo