Things I’m Thankful For- Milo

It’s November so you know what that means? Time for everyone to take to Facebook and list what they’re grateful for each day. I’m not going to name 30 different things I’m grateful for but I will write about a few of them.

I have two dogs. I used to have three but my sweet Beau Beau died. I have two now because around seven years ago my good friend’s then husband got two dogs on a whim. She wanted to give up one of them and Rock Star wanted it. I thought I was being sneaky and I told her to ask her dad. If he agreed we could take the dog. I think you can see where this story is going…

He did indeed agree to take the dog but they decided to keep her. Rock Star was so disappointed. She was looking forward to a little furry baby, as our others were Boxers. Then the female got pregnant. We ended up taking the only male in the litter.

He was a character even then. He would whine incessantly even as a tiny puppy, until my friend’s daughter would hold him and rock him to sleep. My friend would tell me he had such a big personality. I guess that’s one way to put it.

We named him Milo. I introduced him to the world as Milo Bear because he looked like a little teddy bear.


One day Picasso was introducing the dogs to a friend. He began with, “This is Beau Regard.” His name was indeed Beauregard; we called him Beau for short. Picasso apparently thought Regard was his middle name.

He went on, “This is Laila Renee.” Rock Star always called her Laila Bridgert, which I don’t understand. Jerry Lee always referred to her as Laila Renee. She’s now called Laila Lou and if I’m being very fancy she’s Luscious Laila Lou.

Finally he got to our little Milo. “And this is Milo Tim.”

Jerry Lee and I looked at each other as if to say, WTF? We had never called him Milo Tim. And yet somehow, the name stuck. When he’s being bad, which is pretty often, you can hear even my mom yelling, “Milo Tim!” Even the mobster got into it when we came for a visit.


He goes by many names: Milo, Milo Tim, Milo Phyllo Dough, Buggy, Bugs, Polar Bear, Prancer, Mi Mi, My Mi, My Mi Mi, just plain ol’ Mi, Midy Idy Oh, Mr. Mi, or the more formal Mr. Milo. When he’s being real bad it’s Shithead, but with the French pronunciation- Sha-theed.

He’s my little buddy. When I was working at Target he would get up with me every day. It didn’t matter if it was 3:30 in the morning, or the even earlier times of 1:30 or 2:30. He would follow me downstairs each morning despite the obscene time while the other dogs slept, and then he would lay on my feet, keeping them toasty warm while I got ready for work. I have fond memories of brushing my teeth and washing my face all while he slept on my feet.


Every day when I arrive home from work I see his little head popping up in the window, looking out to see for himself that I’m home. My mom tells me I’m not allowed to sit in the driveway once I’m home because they all go crazy with anticipation.

And he’s jealous. If the other dogs greet me on the stairs when I come home he wants to make sure he’s the first one to be petted. He’ll go so far as to grab my hand with his mouth if I’m petting one of the others.

One night I was helping my mom’s dog into bed and apparently Baylor couldn’t find a comfortable spot to settle in, as he started to whine. I patted the space beside me and coached him to come on over. Milo was having none of that! If someone was going to sleep beside me it was going to be him. He quickly settled into the space right beside me and poor Baylor was left to find a place at the foot of the bed (which wasn’t really a hardship; that’s where he usually sleeps).

He’s the one that will follow me wherever I go throughout the house. I’ve seen that dog jump up onto the bed while I’m doing something in the bedroom and jump down and follow me into the bathroom- which is right across the hallway. It’s probably less than 6 feet between the bed and the entrance to the bathroom. But he jumps down each and every time. And when I go back into the bedroom he jumps right back up on that bed.

We did an experiment one day. He was sitting on the bed watching me. I took a step back. Maintained eye contact. He continued looking at me. I took another step back. And another. At one point I even leaned my head forward so he could still see me. I wasn’t even out of his line of sight but he decided I was too far away so he jumped down off the bed and ran over to me.

He loves to snuggle up on the couch or the chair with me. He usually just presses his body up against my leg if I’m on the couch, or settles in beside me if I’m sitting in the chair. If I’m sitting at the table then chances are he’s right under my feet. Never far from me.


Oh, he’s a little shit. He gets into the trash and climbs on tables. He’s even figured out how to use the step stool in order to get up onto the counters. He’ll lick the dishes in the dishwasher and even stand on the damn dishwasher door when it’s open. He whines to go out and then refuses to move from the deck. If you dare sit back down he’ll scratch at the door until you let him in. And he whines until he gets his way which is something he was taught way back when he was a tiny puppy. Whining works!


Yet every day after work I see his head in the window, so glad to see me. Every day he cuddles up beside me while I watch TV. Every time I walk in the house he jumps up on me, so excited to see me finally. And every night he curls up beside me and we go to sleep.

I couldn’t ask for a better buddy. I’m so very grateful for him.



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