A Milo moment

Friday, Oct. 10, 2025, unfolded as the perfect autumn day — the temperature remained above-seasonal average, with only the hint of a mild breeze. After a long workday at a boat-access-only cottage job site, my return home included the anticipated ritual of letting out my doggo, Milo, for his late afternoon frolic in the yard.

As my wife pulled up the driveway, both Milo and I were still lying in the grass, enjoying the warmth of the evening sunshine. We then made a bonfire, and watched the sun set — just a loving dog and his humans. Little did we know this would be our last Friday together. Less than a week later, our beloved Milo crossed over the rainbow bridge.

I never had pets growing up. As such, my first puppy, Molly, revealed how novice I was as a fur-parent. No matter, after a few months it became apparent having a fur-baby is all about routine(s): when to feed the dog, how often to let the dog out, not to mention the multiple vet visits and grooming, as well as everything else that is required and expected.

Milo was an impulse buy — his bigger sisters seemed to be squishing him along the glass at one corner of his pen when I first noticed him (at a pet store, when dogs were still being offered for purchase). After a meet-and-greet, I elected to bring Milo home under the pretence that Molly’s approval was imperative. Within two weeks, Molly had clearly accepted Milo as part of the family, and Milo officially became her younger fur-brother. For nine years or so, this duo was the beating heart of the house, affectionately referred to as “M&M.”

Tragedy struck on Oct. 18, 2019. During a regular morning potty excursion, Molly had not returned as Milo entered the house. I circled the house three times, but no sign of Molly. As the sun awoke, I spotted Molly in the distant field. As I ran to her, my heart sank the closer I got. It was determined later that a bald eagle had attacked her, and she had succumbed to her injuries.

Having never accompanied my dogs during their morning potty ritual in the past, I felt guilty for months that I did not protect my sweet Molly. My anxiety regarding this ordeal immediately shifted towards Milo — he had never known a life without Molly in it, and I worried what the days following Molly’s passing would bring.

Surprisingly, Milo assimilated seemingly well to his new reality. Indoor IP cameras were placed throughout the main floor to monitor his behaviour while we were at work. Checking in on Milo became another daily ritual, one that we grew to enjoy very much.

Another important change to Milo’s routine was my presence during his daily potty outings. After the bald eagle incident with Molly, I decided to accompany Milo around the yard anytime he went outside. From my perspective, this decision was primarily based in keeping my dog safe. In retrospect, I believe Milo saw my behaviour as his Molly replacement within the pack. Rain or shine, snowstorm or wind gusts, Milo and I went outside together.

With all my canine attention now focused solely on Milo, our bond grew exponentially. Milo became my constant, my calm after a difficult workday… my very own unofficial therapy dog. I could always count on Milo to greet me with excitement at the door, a true companion.

Milo assumed his role well, as a needed distraction from the intermittent and unavoidable woes of adulthood. I very much looked forward to going out with him for his daily yard adventures in the morning and immediately upon my arrival home, no matter the weather.

In the fall of 2022, it became apparent that Milo had not fared well while we were away on vacation — his separation anxiety had heightened, exacerbating his heart murmur. We were told at a vet visit that we may lose him.

Milo was prescribed heart and blood-pressure meds, and we hoped for the best. Luckily, within a few weeks, Milo was back to his regular self. It was very apparent he took extremely well to the medication. From that moment on, we considered every day bonus-time with our Milo.

As the summer of 2025 approached, Milo had begun to show signs of slowing down slightly. Although his spring vet appointment revealed a clean bill of health, Milo was into his 14th year. Some days, he bounced around as he always had, while others became more serene, as he lay peacefully on one of his many beds strewn throughout the house.

It didn’t matter where we were, Milo wanted to be there with us, not necessarily being snuggled, but always in the vicinity.

As the summer progressed, Milo could not as easily negotiate stairs as he once did. As such, our routine now included picking him up to bring him up or down the stairs, whether in the house, or outside on the front porch or back deck. Milo still surprised us by jumping up on the couch now and again, but this had become a rarity by late summer.

Fast-forward to that perfect Friday in October. While my wife and I sat by the bonfire and admired the sunset, Milo was doing his usual roaming, sniffing the yard in ritualistic exploration. Milo even made me run after him a few times, a playful act to which I had grown so accustomed. Even in his twilight years, Milo never looked “old” — his fur never greyed, his face barely changed. Milo always looked the same, even though his body had begun to show signs of aging.

As the ensuing week began, Milo became lethargic, and his eating habits began to dwindle. He no longer got excited about his treats, and barely touched his food. Although he had an upcoming vet visit scheduled near the end of October, a brief chat with the veterinarian suggested we bring him in sooner. I was hoping it was a simply mild case of the flu, but something in my gut was telling me something different.

I had my wife join me at the vet’s office. As the examination began, we were encouraged by Milo’s heart assessment and breathing — there was no doubt, the prescribed meds had extended his life to that point.

Unfortunately, the physical exam revealed a large tumour had formed within Milo’s abdomen, and the vet’s facial expression said it all when she found it. My wife and I had always known sparing Milo from any suffering was of the utmost importance, and we decided this was the time we had to say goodbye to our beloved little companion.

For a couple of days leading to this point, it really felt as though Milo had begun to tell us he was “ready.” And that afternoon, we had no choice but to listen. The loneliest drive was that car ride home, with only a collar on an empty dog bed on the passenger seat.

Oh, how we loved our Milo… and we miss him so much.

After Milo’s health scare in 2022, my wife and I had begun preparing for the day we’d have to say goodbye. Prior to that, I suppose it was an inevitability easily dismissed.

We had three beautiful “bonus” years with our Milo. And although we felt as ready as we could imagine for his day to come, I was completely unprepared for the days, weeks and months after Milo’s departure, trying to accept his forever absence.

Not only is Milo gone, but all our daily routines have also been erased — just like that, everything changed. After Molly’s passing, Milo unwittingly became the M&M ambassador. And although it was a sad time, the ongoing routines with Milo softened the grieving process.

Now that Milo is gone and there are no dogs in the house, the silence is deafening. Some say grief is simply love that no longer has a target — I suppose that is true. Grief is messy, and there’s no right way to grieve.

Milo was my best buddy, the most loyal and gentle doggo I ever could have imagined. It was an honour and privilege to have Milo in my life for nearly 15 years.

Milo moments occur frequently of late, daily memories that pop into my head. And although they sometimes become brief Milo meltdowns, I know time will eventually help heal my wounded heart. Milo loved us every day of his life, and we will love and miss him for the rest of ours. Rest in peace, sweet boy! M&M have now both earned their wings.

RenoBoss.Inc@outlook.com