From the age of 18 months to 5 years old, I was a patient in hospitals or rehabilitation facilities while battling the effects of polio. During that time I missed out on many of life’s pleasures, including having pets. I developed an irrational fear of cats and dogs and bugs. I can’t stand to be touched by any of the aforementioned monsters.

So I never met a pet I liked until last week. I became acquainted with Sir Maximilian, a 10-week-old Shih Tzu that weighs a whopping 2.7 pounds. My friends Angelia and Winfred bought him about 10 days ago and named him Max. But my friend Russell suggested since he was tiny that they should give him a big name. He began calling out names and when he said Sir Maximilian, it was a winner. Now Max is his nickname.

Angelia talks to him as though he’s an infant and Max just laps up every word – no pun intended. When she walks through the house, Max is right on her heels. If she sits on the sofa, Max wants to be on the sofa too. His short legs won’t allow him to leap onto the sofa, so Angelia picks him up and puts his special pillow on her lap so he can lie on it while she strokes him and sends him to dog heaven.

Angelia couldn’t wait to show me some of the outfits and toys she had bought him. “Max’s lifestyle is better than some children’s,” I told her. He has so many outfits including a blue-jean outfit; a  Harley Davidson’s jumper and even a raincoat. And then there’s the car seat that’s been attached to the front passenger seat so he can go on outings with his “Mommy and Daddy.”

She sounded like a proud mom as she showed me items in a catalog. She plans to purchase a baby sling so Max can go with his parents during their daily walks. Then there’s the $100 stroller that her husband said was much too expensive. I laughed and told her no one would be able to see Max in it because he’s so small. Just image what passersby would think if they saw her pushing an “empty” stroller through the park. If I saw a stranger doing that my first thought would be, “Is she ready for the funny farm?”

Max has a special area just off the living room that houses his bed and an abundance of toys to entertain him when he decides to get up. It was so funny to watch him get into bed, lie on his side and stretch out his short legs. One minute he’s in bed, the next minute he’s playing with his toys and then it’s time to be with one of his parents. That routine is repeated again and again throughout the day.

I watched him play with one toy after another. But his favorite is a pink elephant that he gnaws or pushes or pulls across the floor. “Come here Max,” called Angelia. Max stopped playing with his toys and took a couple of steps toward her and then stopped. She called him several more times and when she stood up he began to run away from her. Unfortunately, he ran in a circle and it was easy for Angelia to scoop him up. Isn’t that so like a toddler?

He disappears quite often after he finishes playing with his toys. I asked Angelia where he had gone. “He’s lying next to the air-conditioner vent or on the tiled floor in the master bathroom so he can cool off,” she said. She and Winfred are constantly checking on him to make sure he stays out of trouble. And they put a bell around his neck so they can hear him coming and not step on him.

And his dad says he likes best that Max won’t potty in the house. I think Max looks forward to going outside so that his parents can chase after him after he finishes taking care of business. Although the grass is cut low, Max’s legs are so short that he has to hurl himself across blades of grass as he tries to outrun his parents.

I have fallen in love with Max. However, my phobia won’t allow me to touch him. But I did muster up enough courage to drop his favorite treat, Chicken Flavor Canine Carry Outs, in front of him. That’s a big accomplishment for me. If I don’t do anything to get on Max’s nerves, he may be just the therapy I need to conquer my pet phobia.

Or he may become the second dog Angelia has owned that dislikes me. Years ago, she had a very spoiled poodle named Katie. One day I visited Angelia and we decided to run an errand in her car. Katie trotted to the front passenger door and waited for it to be opened. “Today, I’m riding shotgun, and you’ll hold down the backseat,” I said to her. Angelia placed her on the backseat and Katie growled at me throughout the trip. I guessed Angelia felt bad about her naughty child’s attitude and explained Katie was not use to riding in back of the car. “She’ll be all right,” I said. I was so wrong.

A few weeks later, I visited Angelia. She and Katie were in the front yard. When Katie spotted my car, she trotted to the driveway and lay down to block my car. She didn’t move when Angelia called her or when I repeatedly blew my horn. Angelia picked her up and held her during my visit. Again, Katie repeatedly growled at me and she never forgave me.

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