On adoption day ten years ago, she had been recovering at the vets home with other like animals, and it was absolute chaos inside. I took her out it the yard and let her go and then sat on the ground. She slowly walked over to me and crawled into my lap so I held her and she let loose several months of trembling right threw me.
Milagro became Millie as it just fit her loving nature and ended up being easier on the grandkids to pronounce. She was supposed to be my "wing-dog", but it soon became apparent that Momma was her overall favorite although I was good for a daily dose of laughs, adventure, and having a human to attack without penalty. Within a year of adopting her, a condition surfaced within my wife that causes seizures. After the first seizure, we realized that Millie, through her behavior, could forecast the events about 48 hours before they happened. Millie was pretty busy over a four-year period until the doctors got Momma's condition under control.
The absolute joy of her life was our grandchildren, above with our youngest granddaughter Austin this past summer. Any amount of roughhousing or loving was fine with her, just as long as they were doing something that involved her. My oldest grandson, who was born and raised on the ranch and thought of her as his pillow for watching TV, also thought cats had four legs and dogs three!
As she aged, she developed a cool, "been around the block" look with her bent ear, the result of an opossum bite! With age, she also developed lumbosacral, a condition affecting the spine, pelvis, and hips. It had been kept under control with medication as she went through good and bad days, the good always outweighed the bad. On Sunday evening, she started downhill a bit harder than before, but the meds did their job. By 8:30 last night we realized she was really in trouble, so I called the Vet and when he returned the call she was even worse. He agreed that her time had run out and said he would meet us at his office out on the highway. While I was carrying her to the car, she passed in my arm as I laid her on her down on the bed in the back. Momma took it real hard. Mille always took care of business, and I have no doubt that she took care of this so we would not face the burden of the decision.
I buried her in her favorite spot in the yard, a spot that offered her a commanding view of the entry road. One of her greatest pleasures was harassing the UPS Guy but always with a wagging tail.
Rest in peace, my friend.
