Our Best Friend Miller

This post is overdue. As most of you probably know, a little over two weeks ago we had to make the very hard decision to put Miller down. He had a rough winter, and we were holding out hope that it was just his arthritis, and that it seemed worse than usual because the winter was so long and so cold. But then spring came, and no relief. We called the vet on a Saturday morning to try to get him in, but they weren't able to get him in until Monday morning. By Sunday night he had very labored breathing and Sean took him in to the emergency room. We expected that he would have to stay overnight; what we did not expect was that the vet would tell us that Miller had cancer, that it was very far progressed, and that he might not make it through the night and was in a lot of pain. When Sean asked what the vet would do if it was his dog, he answered without a second thought "put him down."

It was a very hard decision for us to make. It was well after midnight, I was home with Lauren, and wanted to be there. And I didn't want Sean to be there by himself. But after much discussion, we decided it was the right thing to do, whatever that means. Sean sat with Miller, and we finally ended his pain.

Sean had Miller from the time he was just a little tiny puppy, 8 weeks old. He was with Sean through so many formative periods in his life, happy and sad. Miller was his constant. I only had the pleasure of meeting Miller in 2005, and then living with him since 2006. But I felt like he had been my dog forever. He was our child before we had Lauren, and for several years our family consisted of just the three of us. He was smelly, and gaseous, and annoying when food was around, but he was also sweet, loving and always there for us. When Lauren came along he was just as we'd hoped he'd be: tolerant and loving. He was Lauren's favorite person in the house; yes even to the exclusion of Sean and me.

The first week was especially hard for us, because it all felt so sudden, and because we weren't used to walking into an empty house. Lauren was confused, and looked for him everywhere, and pointed to the landing where he used to meet us when we came home, and asked "dah?" Luckily an infant's memory is short, and she has stopped looking for him. We said at first we didn't know which was sadder, her looking for him, or when she stopped looking for him because she'd forgotten that he was ever with us. I don't know if I can answer that question yet. And I like to think that she still remembers him, but has figured out that he isn't around anymore.

We are still having a rough time of it, but it is getting better, as all hurtful things do. Some day soon we hope that all we remember are the good times, and we are thankful for the years that he was with us, and the fact that we are much better people for having him in our lives. For right now, we still feel a little cheated, and miss him, and want him back so badly.

Here's a little tribute to Miller's and Lauren's life together, in pictures. We will miss you always, sweet boy.

Before Lauren's arrival: little did Miller know his world was about to be rocked.

Just as we'd hoped: Miller guards Lauren on her 2nd day home.

Miller, looking great and like he would live forever, on Lauren's first walk, 1 week old.

Miller was Lauren's constant companion on the floor.

It was a little more work to take Miller and Lauren with us everywhere,

but Miller was so appreciative.

Miller wasn't photographed as much after Lauren's arrival, but here he manages
to sneak into the shot.

Lauren and Miller enjoyed similar pasttimes, like looking out the window.
Lauren squealed, Miller barked.

Similarly, neither Miller nor Lauren enjoyed the baby gate.

I wish you could see him in this photo, it's too dark, but rest assured that when Lauren first ate spaghetti, and really any time that Lauren ate, Miller was close by.

In the morning, we bring Lauren to our bed to feed her. As soon as she was done eating, she would crawl to the side of the bed to look at and laugh at Miller.

Until we meet again, Miller Lorenzo Power. We love you always.