It was the day that I hoped would never come. The realist in me knew that I would have to say goodbye to Miller one day; dogs cannot live forever. But for a while there, it seemed that Miller was intent on trying. He lived to be 17 3/4 years old, quite ancient for a dog.
Miller was a beautiful dog. I guess one of the reasons it seemed so hard to finally make the call to let him go was that he looked so damned good to the very end. He just had a light about him, from the minute I saw him at the shelter that very first time. Other dogs that I've adopted were often on a second or third look. I didn't even really realize that I'd seen Fred on the first walk-through at the shelter, he was so quiet, so meek. Miller stood out from the get-go.
I think it was those eyes.
Okay, maybe that's not the best shot of those eyes!
Miller's lived a pretty pampered life, as all Vanneman dogs tend to do. He loved being groomed, though he was never a fan of having his nails done. He slept on the bed, until he was unable to make it up, and then he had the very best dog beds at his disposal. My sisters and I laugh at how soft our dogs' elbows are; these are animals that have never had to lay on hard surfaces! One of Boo's nicknames, as it was, was "Pasha" Boo.
Miller and Boo were best buds. A lovely pair of dogs. And they, like all of my guys, had traveled a fair amount. Since Miller had been with me for so long, he got to travel the most. He has been lucky enough to stay in some of the nicest bed and breakfasts in the Catskills, the Adirondacks, Charlottesville, Virginia, Chambersburg, Pennsylvania, the eastern shore of Maryland. There were surely others. And he and his brothers enjoyed several visits to Moosehead Lake in the far north of Maine. Such a lucky boy.
That's Bailey laying there with his head on Fred's shoulder. Miller was very patient with Bailey. We all, dogs and people alike, learned to be patient with Bailey. But Miller being Miller seemed the most able to manage it...even an unfortunate diarrhea incident on a drive up here to look at houses didn't really phase Miller much. Didn't make me very happy...
That wasn't the first time Miller had something inadvertently slopped all over his lovely coat. One time, at the Fire and Ice Festival in Mount Holly, NJ, Miller and I, along with Deb's little Menolly, I think, were waiting outside for our "fire" part of the festival: a chili contest (the ice part was an ice sculpting contest). Deb and Dana crossed the street with some chili for me (dogs were not allowed in the fire hall where the chili contest was taking place). As they handed the cup of chili over to me, Miller jumped up to get some for himself. His nose hit the cup, which flew out of my hand, flying way above our heads. As you can imagine, this entire event seemed to be happening in slow motion, but not quite slow enough for any of us to stop the inevitable: the chili landed smack dab on Miller's back. Oy. Again...it's funny in hindsight only!
Miller was so welcoming to all of the dogs who came and went from my household during his long lifetime. Such a sweet boy. And the other dogs just loved Miller.
And even in his older years he was more than willing to welcome a young punk into the family. Homer adored Miller...he would often just walk over to Miller as he lazed in his bed and plop down on the floor right next him, happy to just spend time with his older brother, though, on his first day here, he was happy to take Miller's bed. And true to Miller's gentle nature, he let him, and took the smaller bed right nearby.
The fact is that I could go on for pages about Miller. He was a special boy. Though all of my dogs are nice, Miller (once he was out of his terrible twos! Boy did I lose a lot of wood at that Oak Road house!) was just the most perfect combination of sweet and kind. We called him The Empath, and he really was able to read our minds...he always knew when I needed a little extra lovin'.
Miller, like all well-loved dogs, earned many a nickname in our family. The Golden Bear, Blondie, Blond Bombshell, his Native American Indian name, Walks in Sunlight, his dinosaur name, Tri-Miller-Tops. To me, he will always be my golden boy.
Goodbye, Sweet Miller.
