The Adventures of Lorie and Brian Groth

The thing Milo loved most was to be near.

Most people would argue that chasing a squirrel or anything small and fuzzy was more important to him. Or others might say that food was the most important to him, which includes anything from his home-cooked meals to cigarette butts to animal droppings. But at the core of this big guard dog was a giant puppy who just wanted to sit on your lap – all the time. From the way he would look at you on the couch, telling you something via his mind control abilities, insisted on sleeping on the bed or how he would crawl up between our pillows in the morning; we always knew he just wanted to be near.

When Milo was just a young puppy in 2005, had told us that he had a goal of traveling the world, which became a reality when he convinced us to drive across the US and fly to London where we all made a variety of great new friends. This is where he met his first girlfriend, Daisy the yellow lab, who happened to be an American from Washington State. Although the long hikes with Daisy outside of London were fun, walking to all the parks and through all the cemeteries (where all dogs are leashed) in southwest London were always his favorite walks.

Since he wanted to be close to so many people, he never really knew how tough he could look. Although, most of those people never saw what he looked like when taking a bath. After all, he would give a look while in the bath that certainly did not hide his mood.

It was Milo’s youthful energy (he was only 6 ½) that most people noticed. When we all moved back to Seattle, we introduced him to houseboat living and snow sports, but in his heart, he remained a lovable lap dog. Yes, he was big enough to cut off the circulation in your legs if he sat on them for too long, but he always managed to squeeze in and make himself fit on the couch somehow.

This morning, February 12, 2012, Milo suddenly died. Something ruptured inside and according to Gretchen & Michael (he was staying on the farm while we moved), he didn’t seem to be afraid or in much pain as they (and we) raced to the closest vet. Despite all of his previous self-destructive acts in life, in the end, his death didn’t involve any sort of dramatic disaster, he just dropped and died shortly before we arrived at the vet.

Milo was our troublemaker, our garbage disposal, our buddy, our best friend, the center of our family and our lovable companion at all times. And we know we will always miss him terribly.