Moved Right

Milo's gone to the right, and I don't mean politically either. He departed Earth as much a liberal as his mama, although his more politically conservative papa might have somethin' to say about 'dat.

:-)

I couldn't bring myself to do it for the past week, but I finally summoned up the momentum to move his sweet little picture bio to the right of my blog. Typed in the date he became my third Golden Angel, and then clicked enter. Tears stung my eyes and my gut fell. Such a simple act, yet so heavy for me.

Now, I just have to take a deep breath and figure out what to do with the other pictures on the left. I no longer have a triplet brood of Goldens. They'll need some updating, but I need more time.

I thought about changing Milo's bio picture to this one before moving it to the right:

But, we decided to use this photo to send to the GR Rescue instead. It is now on their 2011 Memorial page.

I decided to keep that bio photo of him. It was taken the day we adopted him. I love that photo so much. He was just so darned happy to be coming home with us. Ed told me that he was so happy he nearly wagged himself in half. That thought is funny to me. :-)

I shared the news of his death with his foster mommy at the GR Rescue and she wrote something in her email reply that made Ed and I both wish we could tell him just one more time how much we dearly loved his sweet fuzzy soul. She wrote,

"I hope you can partially console yourselves by knowing that these babies couldnt' have known more love anywhere else and that you have made their lives a "heaven on Earth"....when I picked up Milo from the shelter, the staff was so glad because he had been passed over so many times as being "too old"..."

Those words, "he had been passed over so many times..."

God, that thought crushed Ed and I. We'd always known about his sad history at the shelter, but after having had our old schweetie bear for almost 4 years, I cannot fathom that he had been passed up. When I allow myself to think about how expectantly, how hopefully, he must have looked up at each prospective human family, I am devastated. What sadness he must have felt as each person simply walked past him.

Milo craved human affection and connection more than any other of our dogs. That is so rare for Golden Retrievers. They are a breed driven by FOOD, FOOD, and more FOOD. Their tummies rule their brains. But, not Milo's brain.

If he was eating dinner and Ed or I happened to walk into the room, he'd stop to come over and nuzzle us. That opened the window for Achilles, and then Laverne or Shirley, to swarm in on his food bowl. They always inhaled their supper. So, we learned not to "distract" Milo when he was eating. No one moved from one room to another at his mealtime, otherwise it was over. He wouldn't finish his food. He would wander over with his silly little walk, say hi, nuzzle, kiss, lick, and settle in for petting and love.

So, having had the honor to know Milo and have him in our lives, and then remembering that he had been passed over for months on end at a cold shelter, well, it made for a jagged pill to swallow. Ed and I can't even bring ourselves to watch the Humane Society commercials. We've now got our own little commercial playing in our heads, complete with the sad Sarah Maclachlan song.

All creatures deserve basic comforts and assurances, and if we are financially able to afford to bring a beloved pet into our home, I believe it should be a rescued or adopted pet. I know that my belief will rub some of you the wrong way, especially those who prefer to purchase specialty breeds. But, in light of what I have known with Milo, my belief is even more confirmed, and all the more profound.

All I ask is that if you do have a choice between buying a pet (especially a dog or a cat) and rescuing or adopting, then please think about it. Remember our Milo who was passed over so many times, and then recall my humble words about my rescued dogs....they have made me a better human...they have changed me...I have learned lessons that I take to all other corners of my life...and I have known love so deep, so loyal, so glorious, so holy, and so good, that if I ever doubted the existence of a God, my doubt has been replaced with absolute affirmation.

When my rescued dogs die, I have been reminded each time that if there truly are no dogs in heaven, then I truly do not want to be there.

No.

I want to go where they are.