The Story of Milo

If you've ever wondered how I've become so attached to my dog and treat him like a human child, I want to explain our history to you.

First, you should know he's not even really mine, or he wasn't at first. For my moms birthday several years ago, her mom wanted to surprise her with a gift. She let us three kids know about her idea, which, to no surprise - I was thrilled about. We even got to pick his name, Milo, and got to help her pick him up from the store. That day we picked him up, I had no idea what I was getting myself into, physically, emotionally, and everything in between.

When we first saw him in the store and they got him out, he was this itty-bitty black ball of energy. You know when they are hyper as puppies and get into things and bark - not true in this case. He is the reason I believe that who they are as puppies is who they will always be. His personality hasn't changed one bit. He ran around the store that day and was just so excited and full of life. He got to go to his forever home.

We surprised my mom with him that same day and she was indeed, extremely surprised. She has never been an animal person so I'm pretty positive getting a puppy was not on her bucket list, but - it didn't even matter. I already fell for this little black bear of crazy and he was developing an attachment to me. We installed a gate and he lived in our very large kitchen while he was potty training (which did not go well for a very long time) and while we were not home. He has this little voice inside his head that tells him to tear everything up and get into as much as possible - so he had to always be under a watchful eye.

As time passed, our attachment to one another grew stronger. I would carry him around when he was still small in a blanket, hold him, and eventually started to let him sleep with me at night and put him back in the kitchen during the day while I went to school. We got him neutered. I took him for walks when it was nice out. I taught him to sit, lay down, shake, and high-five. I even got him into dog obedience classes, which was exhausting for us both. We did those with my human friend Karlie, and her fur son Biggie. Overall, we had a really great routine. However, keep in mind, at this time I still classified him as my "mom's" dog. She would often help take him outside and always make sure he had food.

But then, life changed for us both. Owen was born, so different precautions came with having a baby in the house. Not only this, but I decided to move to Champaign for a school year to get that college experience. It was very hard to be away from him, but it made our weekend visits that much more special. At this point in my life, he was my mom's dog. I had no more responsibilities for him anymore. He would only sleep in my bed with me on the weekends when I was home, but other than that he was left alone.

During the last half of my sporadic move to Champaign, my mom moved as well. This is where everything changed. All Milo knew was that house, or I should say, that kitchen, on Hidden Court. The adjustment made me nervous for him and everyone involved. To say the least, it did not go well. Her boyfriend strongly dis-liked Milo. His dog, who's a very strange dog, would hide behind the couch while Milo was living there. She still - to this day - hates him. Milo would bark in the middle of the night, and was just extremely high strung and anxious. This brought my mom to her decision that changed my life.

I'm getting teary-eyed writing this part. It was an extremely difficult moment for me, when my mom said, "I think we should re-home Milo..." followed by a book of a text. I remember exactly where I was in this moment, in my bedroom in Champaign. When I read this text, it took me to my knees. *Now I'm crying, if that doesn't show you how much this moment hurt and still hurts to think about* I lost it. I started crying like I've never cried before. No this wasn't my dog, but for some reason I just couldn't picture a life without him. I understood where she was coming from, I understood how tiring it was, but I couldn't let her give up on him.

I begged her. Please keep him for the next few months and I promise when I move home in May I will take him and he can be mine. She was so unsure about this, and I don't even remember full details because my vision was blocked by Niagra falls. I remember texting my sister and telling her how upset I was, "she can't do that she just can't" were some of the things I was saying. However, I thought about it some more, and realized he wasn't getting the life he deserved, he just wasn't. It was selfish of me to want to keep him when I wasn't even going to be around for 3 more months. She actually did get a call about an older man who had just lost his dog. I love old people and I felt bad he lost his dog and wanted a new one. But when the opportunity came, I said no. I can't do it. I had this gut feeling.

He was meant to be with me. He already has anxiety, a high-strung personality, barks at random things/cars/planes/leaves moving/squirrels/etc., has no idea what 'walk' means, and would escape if given the small chance. I knew him like the back of my hand. It actually impressed my mom that I knew every time he needed to poop. It's weird how when you're a mom, you kind of just pick up on intuitions like these. I just knew that he wouldn't have the same life with someone else. He is not a normal dog by any means, and I've accepted him every single flaw and all - which has been impossible for others to do.

Thankfully, my mom was patient with me and waited for me to move home. The first day I moved my stuff in. The second day I moved him in, and he even escaped. He ran down to a corn field and I got in my car so fast, that I backed up into a tree (whoops) and honked my horn until he jumped back in my car. He has never stopped giving me panic attacks like those. He's been stung by a bee and had an allergic reaction that called for a trip to the vet. He's had tics I've picked with my bare fingers because I didn't know they were tics. He's had awful bloody stools and piles of blood on the floor. He's had the awful cocker spaniel ear problems. When it comes to him I'm sensitive, and him and his issues are giving me a run for my money. We're working on becoming more resilient to stressors like these and remembering it is not a crisis, so I can chill on the crying thing. (haha right)

But we've also had amazing memories. As you all know, he recently just had his first birthday party, hosted by yours truly. It was a country western theme and we even had cupcakes and games. He got presents from the family. Also, it's pretty common for me to take him on a car ride once in a while. We go get a pup cup at DQ and drive around the lake. When it's warm out, we walk down our long driveway and down the road until he's wore out. I've even taken him swimming before and for rides on a golf cart. He gets to try different foods and has treats sometimes. Occasionally, I will leave Animal Planet on the t.v. for him. We cuddle every night. He makes me laugh so much sometimes with how goofy he is or how clumsy he can be. Ultimately, I try to give him the best life possible. He now has free roam of our house, he can go to my room, the living room, the kitchen, and the bathroom (he lays in there while I get ready). His favorite place is to be in my bed. He even gets to hang out in Owen and McKenzie's rooms when we play with Owen.

Milo Thomas Downs was put into my life for a reason. I truly don't think anyone could handle him the way I do. In fact, everyone hated him. No one liked my dog, they thought he was a psycho. McKenzie, specifically, could not stand him. She will admit that. However, she has helped me with taking him outside for me more since I am gone with school and work so much, that she has been growing a bond with him. It has been so special to watch. If anyone knows me, they know that he is #1 in my life. I would be perfectly content just having only him forever. But, it's nice to have other people care for him the way I do too.

I've realized for a while now just how much I like to be home. I have cancelled plans countless times just to be able to stay home. Sometimes I don't feel like doing anything, and sometimes I want to be alone. I honestly have believed that I like being alone for, well, up until this moment right now. The further I write this, the more it's clear to me. My version of being 'alone' includes Milo. I enjoy being home so much, because that's where he is. *Cue the tears* There's nothing I wouldn't do for him. I've never felt like my heart has lived outside of my body until him. I've never known what unconditional love was until I had him. He gives me love, purpose, comfort, and companionship. He will always be one of the most important parts of my life.

I literally cannot imagine my life without him. He follows every move I make, he's always right there. He's been there through so much in my life. There's been significant changes these past 6 years, but he's always been the one constant in my life.

I know many people can relate to this, but may just not vocalize it. It's hard for me to understand how some people don't feel this way towards their pets. I just couldn't imagine having one - and not wanting to give it the world. They will only live a small fraction compared to our lifetimes. Make it worthwhile.

Xoxo,
Milo's Mom

P.S. When he passes away please find me help. I'm going to need a psychologist's help.