My Baby Blue

I have to talk about my Milo....He is my blue eyed, red and white haired, Australian Shepherd.  Let me say this though,before I get started;  I have three dogs and I love my other two with all my heart.  My Milo though...he's different.  I mean they're all different, like having kids, you love them all, but in different ways.  And comparisons are really foolish when you talk about the love of your dogs.  But this is about Milo!

I saw his sweet, innocent, eager face on Facebook.



 I had been looking for a  third dog, but not  actively. When I saw his face, I had to find out more.  His large blue eyes, spoke volumes to me, and the expression on his face was almost confusing and begging for love.  He was adoptable, good with kids and other dogs; well, that was all I had to read. I think it was the next day we drove across the city, about a half hour to where his foster home was.  Turns out he was about 18 months old and his first 17 months were spent in a four by six foot pen, alone, with no real human contact. Apparently, some guy bought him from a breeder and it turned out he traveled a lot so he left Milo with his mother.  His mother was "allergic" to dogs, so she basically pushed food into his small pen.

Milo wasn't his name.  It was Patches.  Patches.  I don't think so.  I knew from the minute I met him he certainly was not a "Patches".  Even now, as I sit here typing, and he goes in and out of the dog door, or as he lies on the floor by my chair, I look at him and know that Milo was his name and should have been his name from the start.

Anyway, his transition was really fairly smooth.  He was great with Tasha and Lexy, our other family dogs. Tasha was very curious and happy he was here and Lexy, the old alpha dog, had been through four other dogs in our household, so she took it all in stride. I honestly can't remember much about his first few days in his new home.  I think that Tasha had some sort of special language that she used when she communicated to him, and told him everything was cool in this house, to hang out, and enjoy his new home. Yep, I do think that was her message to him.




 Because that's what he did.  He seem as comfortable as he could have been for a boy who had no real human contact for the first 17 months of his life.  His foster family, however, was awesome.  They nursed him through the trauma of losing his testicles, and made him comfortable in his own fur by combing out all of the mats.  They also provided a happy, safe place with lots of hands on love and affection.

Still, as with humans, those early days of life are vital, and form us in so many ways.  Milo can't get enough physical contact, and he loves being stroked, hugged and loved on.  Like a typical Aussie, he gets a huge amount of joy from leaping up in the air to catch a tennis ball.



When it comes to food, he can't get enough.  That's  a little disturbing. The owner of our gym said that her dog would eat until he blew himself up. That's Milo...I think he would as well. Fortunately I have a great life partner, my husband, who takes him and his 'siblings' on a hike each morning, on the mountain across from our home. He LOVES that!!  






Milo is extremely intelligent. They say Aussies have about the same intelligence as a five year old human.  I believe it, Milo has proved it.  He is my boy, there is a bond.  I feel guilty that I have to go to work and leave him. Even though he has two others his same kind; dogs. I feel guilty when I leave and don't take him, but I have to remind myself that it could have been worse for him. It doesn't keep me from thinking that he would be much happier with a younger family, with kids who can play with his young, curious self.



Okay, well, it's a Friday night, and my boy is lying next to me, asleep.  He is beautiful, and I am fortunate.  My companion, my boy, my faithful friend, Milo, is a treasure to me.  I am happy to be his!