In light of the recent google searches that have led all the freaks to my blog lately, I decided to do a happy post! Wait, aren’t my posts usually happy?
Anyway, today I am going to talk about my beautiful puppy Milagro, which is Spanish for miracle. I named her that because well, the vet insisted her mother was only going to have 5, and she was number 6. She was so tiny and cute and I instantly knew I was going to keep her. There was not a doubt in my mind about it.
Even though she was the runt, she turned into this precious ball of smartness and ended up being the first one to walk, eat and brave the outdoors to take a “stink stink”.1
Around 2004, Milagro became very sick after we spent a few days out at an RV park with some friends. It started off with her being lethargic, followed by her losing her appetite and then losing control of pretty much all of her motor functions. It was awful. I did some internet searches to see what could be wrong, and we called countless vets which were closed because it was the weekend. I left frantic calls with our own vet, who finally called back early Sunday morning. He had told us she p
robably had parvo and that he could provide us with a quick and affordable solution for her. For the “bargain basement price of only $85″2 he would “put her down” for us. I was floored, and hurt that this asshole3 would say such a thing to us. He told us parvo was fatal in puppies and we were better off paying $85 instead of hundred or thousands only to end up with the same result.
Naturally, that was not going to work for us, so we continued calling around to see if we could find a vet who would help us. The town we were living in was small, so the choices were limited but finally we found an amazing animal hospital4 that agreed to help us. They told us her chances were
slim, but they would try their best. Our other dogs were also sick, but none quite as bad as Milagro so we were able to treat them from home.
After a week of ups and downs, they finally called to tell us that we could bring Milagro home. She looked awful! She was so skinny and smelled like a manure factory. But she was still alive and back home where she belonged.
Being away from us for the week caused her to develop some awful habits like barking and whining. She had never done either before she got sick… and still does both, excessively, to this very day. Oh, and she also is a stalker. The moment I move, she moves too, even if it’s three steps to grab something. I can not recall the last time I was in the bathroom alone. They tell me this behavior is normal for dogs who have extended stays away from home, and hers was pretty traumatic.
She’s grown up to be such a fun dog. She is playful and very very entertaining. She even sits still so I can torture her with silly flowers… even though she looks like she wants to kick my ass.
She loves to play with squeaky toys. Anything that squeaks will hold her attention for hours. And if she is on the move, she will search one out to take with her where ever she is heading. She’s a spoiled dog, so she has almost as many toys as I have shoes.
She also loves wearing those cute little doggy outfits so many people hate.
She enjoys eating “yum yums” and if you act like you are going to steal it, she will act like she is going to bite your fingers off. 
She loves to fetch. If you throw a stick or a ball or her “squeaka”, she will run with all her might to catch it. She will usually bring it back to you, but there are times when she tries to hold it hostage so you have to work to get it from her. 
I really hope to have this excited little ball of fur around for many, many, many years to come. I can not imagine life without her or her sister Sandy.5
