The Story of Milo

Along with my messages and my own thoughts, I am feeling it is time to tell Milo’s story and how he has changed me forever.  I will be posting his journey, more specifically his journey with cancer so that I may share my love for him, his love for me and my love for you allowing me to pass along the information I have learned when you hear those awful and dreaded words…’Your dog has cancer.’  It is my hopes that I will be able to help those dog parents who just don’t know what to do.

This is Milo’s story.

When animals enter your life and join you as a companion for however many years we are lucky enough to have them on this Earth, one more than likely believes you’re saving the animal.  True, yes you are in many ways, especially if you are adopting/rescuing.  My experience with my dogs has led me to believe likewise, for they have truly rescued me in more ways than one.  Each and every one of them.

When my Bosco passed away in 2008, I thought I, myself, might also die from the heartache and grief  I was experiencing.  The house was just so quiet.  The energy was different, so very different.  It was just three months later we decided to start seeking out shelters and rescues to see what we could find.  Little did we know stepping foot onto the property of LaMancha Animal Rescue on a summer day in 2008 would change our lives forever.

A former horse farm, this rescue was so beautiful with stables and barns and pastures abound.  We were quickly led to the puppy area where I met Boris for the first time and knew we were meant to be.  But then we decided to go to the older dog area where dogs one year and older were waiting to find their forever home.

We came upon a stall that was empty but the name card read ‘Socks’ (Milo).  And the breed mix was a hound/great dane mix.  Then he came prancing in.  With a red coat and white underbelly, this very thin dog just did not seem to be enjoying his stay.  We were definitely interested in spending some time with ‘Socks’ and learned in order for us to adopt both dogs, we had to walk them together in the fenced enclosure to make sure they got along.   And they sure did.

With the paperwork filled out and no, and I mean NO dog or puppy supplies, we loaded them into our car for a new life of adventures and memories.

And that is how we all met.

Milo came to be Milo and not Socks all because we wanted to name him Baxter.  We had a Bosco who passed, a cat name Bug, the puppy was named Boris and therefore we wanted to continue with the alliteration of names.  It wasn’t until I started reading Milo’s vet records that I realized he had been adopted out and returned and that the patient’s name on the records I was reading was Milo…not Socks.

We put it to a test.  Todd was slated with called him Baxter to see how he would respond and I was slated with calling him Milo.  He was not responding to Baxter yet as soon as I called out Milo, he turned his head so quickly you could have felt the breeze.

Milo it was, Milo it is, Milo it will forever be.

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