Having a dog will bless you with the happiest days of your life, and one of the worst days. There is an emptiness in my heart and my home day and night in losing my best friend, companion and confidante. A few weeks ago, we had to say goodbye to Milo, our beloved 13-year old Labrador, and give him one last kiss on top of his head (which always smelled like chicken noodle soup and strangely enough comforted me). My heart is heavy with grief, and it has been difficult to comprehend he is really gone.
Milo was a gentle giant and would not hurt any animal, child nor human. The worst guard dog ever but if you needed love, he had more than enough to share. Because he was so intelligent, we immediately placed him in training to properly channel the energy he possessed. We knew from previous dog experience, if we were not consistent and firm, he could turn our lives upside down. We were all soon registered to participate in a training facility in Los Angeles to train him and us in stage work for television and movies. Our intention was never to have Milo become famous. We just wanted to have fun while we all learned. He, of course, did great and quickly learned how to stand on his mark, bark on command, lay on his side and raise his head up and down all through hand signals. His work included a music video for our friend and neighbor, Michelle Mangione, What is a Saint? (https://youtu.be/lybQkDXMakc) and attended a dog party for a little boy for the Make a Wish Foundation. After this last gig, he moved on to more stable work.
Milo began working in our stained-glass studio and shop in Long Beach. It was like having a bull in a china shop at times when he was overcome by the zoomies. He had a fan base who would come into the shop just to visit with him. I cannot blame them, he exuded love and was excited to see everyone. After closing the shop, Milo retired and spent most days hanging with his sister, Callie. They went camping with us in the Sierras, hiked, fished and took many naps. Moving to Oregon allowed Milo to experience some of the best hikes he has ever been on and became my farm dog. He assisted me in the vegetable garden every day and loved laying in the grass with all the chickens.
Leading up to his last days, Milo insisted on helping me with the baby chicks and working in the garden. He was stiff and sore but was determined to be by my side. Even when I did not feel well myself and fighting off infections, he stayed by my side and had no problem taking naps with me. I often joked and called him my farm dog, but truthfully all he really did was eat chicken poop, follow me around and take naps while I worked.
My heart was finally filled last night when I had my first dream of Milo wagging his tail and slobbering all over me. It felt good to see him so healthy, young and happy. Milo, thank you for the tiny real-life visit to ease my aching heart. I love and miss you, farm dog.