Dear “Milagro,” “Mila,” “Mimi,” “Millimeter,” SmillaSmeeter
“Meeter,” “Smilla,” “Smeeter,” “Smilla Ain’t Got No Sense Of
Snow,” “Squinty,” “Little Looney Loons”…
I think of you – clicking across wooden floors and the sound of your
nails on cement city walks; frantically rolling on the futon
demanding with your “Nyarp…nyarp” vocalizations that anyone nearby
pet you; the “heh-heh-heh-heh” rhythm of your unique panting;
running down the stairs with your amusingly odd half-bunny, half
hula-hipped jaunt; biting chins when you got too excited greeting
the ones you loved; the many, many times you tried to climb inside
Chris’s head when you were anxious from the noise of the wind,
firecrackers, sirens, T-storms, and miscellaneous sounds;
your songs for Christophan; smelling the wonderful aroma of your
Corgi feet and Jasmine-scented ears; shedding fur from lush loons;
climbing over me in a lick-fest and literally knocking me over
laughing; hidden in the closet with a sanitary pad wrapper stuck to
your ear; making “Donnie Darko” faces; placing your soft head on my
shoulder; lying on various beds with your body so entwined with Star
that you looked like a mythical creature; your nightly cuddle
sessions with Nina and Chris; and I know that we all gave you the
unconditional love that you provided for us…
Mimi, you have the most dedicated and wonderful pet parents – my
sister, Nina; and her husband Chris. They always had your best
interests at heart and did everything necessary to prolong your life
without prolonging your pain. Thank you for your fighting spirit and
all of the remarkable adjustments you made to combat your medical
complications. You did it with typical Corgi humor and the wise
grace of a dog living in-the-moment. Nina really needed a “sign”
from you. Smilla, you did not fail to deliver. This is in Nina’s own
words: “The amazing thing was the 1/2 hour or so before the vet
came, Mila who has always been a squirmy worm who doesn’t like to be
hugged too long, lay on her back in my arms on my lap with me and my
husband talking to her and telling her tales about her life. She
looked us both in the eyes though she couldn’t see anymore and would
keep looking between us in a totally calm way. Her breathing got
really slow and calm as if she might pass then and when I was
telling her about how much she snorted like a pig when I first got
her and how she didn’t snort anymore she snorted… It was so weird
as if she 100% understood what we were talking about and was showing
us that it was alright and that it was the right time. She snuggled
with us until the vet came and then got lots of treats and a
peaceful quick send off. I feel like she gave us a real blessing in
that 1/2 hour and she made me feel totally at peace with our
decision. We told her how she was welcome to visit us in spirit any
time and that she’d always be with us…”
You have provided the ultimate unselfish gift that a dog can give –
through your love and unique personality, you have allowed Nina and
Chris to be (relatively) free of the guilt about getting another
Corgi someday. Instead of closing their world with a chapter of
pain…you have opened a new space for another Corgi to experience
their love. I am honored to be considered your auntie and I love
you. Thank you for the joy you brought to all of us on a daily
basis…I love you so much, sweetheart:) – with all my love I make
this donation in your honor…
Crossed over to the Rainbow Bridge: April 19,2011.
Donated by Nikki Shepherd