Rest in peace my sweet little soul, Miller.

From the moment I adopted you, you had been one of the brightest lights in my life. I had no idea what “unconditional love” was until I met you. We were inseparable companions for  8 years. You got me through many ups and downs. I knew one day I would lose you to the gates of heaven, but I certainly didn’t imagine it would be such a sudden and traumatic experience. 

When I first adopted you at 6 months old, I learned that you had been adopted by another person previously who had been abusive and then gave you back. You struggled with separation anxiety and nervousness from the day I got you. You were a scared and terrified little pup, but I brought you home to nourish and nature you. 

You had such a  wanderlust soul in terms of wanting to RUN free whenever an opportunity presented itself. Boy, you sure found the opportunity countless times in your 8 years on this earth. Almost everyone who knows you can share a story about your “running away” experiences. In hindsight, your wanderlust traits mirror my wanderlust love for travel and new experiences….We made a great pair.

The final moments:

On November 17, 2021 around 10:00am, you were with me at Healing Leaves and a client walked in for a foot bath treatment. You immediately greeted her with love, giving her kisses and cuddles. I walked into the back of the store to prepare the foot bath service. The client went to the restroom while I was getting the water ready. Then I suddenly realized I couldn’t see or hear you and I noticed the store door was ajar. So naturally I assumed you wandered off on a joy run.  I walked out after you to see if I could see you. Now, normally I would look around a bit and if you weren’t easy to track, I would wait for someone to find you and call my phone number on your tag. SO many times in your life other amazing humans have found you and call me to tell me how you’ve been found RUNNING AWAY. However, this time something was different. My gut was screaming to wander after you even though that meant leaving the store completely unattended except for the client waiting for her foot bath…… I ran to my car, opened the door to grab your extra leash and went to search for you.

Off in the distance, I could see commotion near a busy road and guessed that something or someone was laying  down on the ground on the side of the street. People were rushing back and forth in a hurry. I could tell the situation wasn’t good. It was obvious there was some sort of emergency. I thought it could be you, or a human passed out, or something else. Either way, I knew I needed to approach and see if I could assist in some way.  A lady ran up to me noticing I was holding a leash. At this exact moment, I knew YOU were the emergency. I immediately started to cry as I rushed over to where you were laying in the grass. The 3 people standing over you were all crying. One lady was holding your head gently as blood poured out. Your left eye was bloody and swollen . You were conscious and obviously in pain. I froze as people screamed to call a vet. I attempted giving you reiki, but I knew with trembling hands you were going to pass on. I knew you were in so much pain. You were crying. 

We carried you to the truck of the woman that ran over you and she rushed us to the emergency vet. I knew in my heart you weren’t going to make it. I kept telling you “I’m so sorry”. I didn’t want you to be in pain any longer. I knew you were suffering. As you gasped for breath, I called on the phone anyone I could think of who might be able to help in some way with this emergency. I heard you gasping as I prayed “please, cross on. I don’t want you suffering, it’s okay. I love you and I know it’s your time. Go across the rainbow.”

You took a few more slow, deep gasps for air. I heard you take one more, and then suddenly we pulled up to the vet. The lady driving abruptly stopped in a parking spot, jumped out yelling “LET’S GO, WERE HERE!” Truth be told, I didn’t want to move you. I just wanted you to rest peacefully in my arms. There was a man outside smoking a cigarette when he noticed we were in panic. I finally just started screaming for help. He ran to the front door of the vet to get someone and then just decided to help us move your body. We frantically brought you inside. 

A nurse rushes to grab your limp body from my hands as we are walking together. Instinctively I don’t want to let go of the pressure I’m placing on your head. I don’t want you to bleed anymore. Another nurse comes to take the place of my hand. I see my hand is covered in blood. The color red is all over my arm. My white top is also covered in dried blood. As I realized the significance of what has happened, knowing the nurses are taking care of you now, I collapse to my knees in tears. I’m hysterically shedding sadness. Then suddenly a hand comes to hug me and lift me up off the ground. It’s the lady I arrived with. We walk into a “patient’s” room, waiting to hear the results. I knew you weren’t coming back. 

The staff are asking us questions for the intake form. We’re both upset and struggling to converse. I turned to the lady who helped me drive you to the vet and who helped me stand up when I collapsed and hugged her. It’s my turn to console her. “It wasn’t your fault. I know you didn’t mean to hit him. Everything is going to be okay.”  Just then the doctor walks in and confirms the news, “he’s passed on. There was just too much trauma to the brain. He lost too much blood.” (I already knew this. In fact, I knew this as soon as I saw you on the side of the street.) I take a deep breath, and reply “yes, now what? I guess I’d like a cremation..”

Leaving the vet my legs were like jello. We walked back to her car and realized one of her child’s car seats was lost in order to care for you. I told her stories of how happy you must be. You died the way I always thought you would. Wanderlust. Running wild and in my arms. Through all of this trauma, I actually really felt peaceful. We chatted the whole way back to Healing Leaves. When we arrived and hugged each other goodbye, I noticed the time, exactly 11:11am. 1111 is an angel number to maintain a positive, optimistic attitude; a reminder that we are all connected and it resonates with new beginnings and motivation to move forward. I knew it was a synchronicity. 

Luckily, one of my staff members was able to check on the store while I was dealing with your emergency. She noticed it was locked when she arrived, which was a surprise. Then, the most magical realization occurred. The stranger I pleaded with at the scene of the accident to check on Healing Leaves (my business that I left completely unattended) so that we could rush to the vet, did, in fact, go to the store. She left her phone number on a business card and told the customer waiting for her foot bath what had taken place. The lady waiting for her bath actually owned her own business and understood that I would be stressed trying to tend to the emergency of my pet but not wanting to leave my business unattended. So she decided to hunt for my keys to lock up the store. She figured out which car was mine and stuffed my keys under the driver’s seat and left her business card so I could get ahold of her later. 

The amount of good karma and love that was spread that day by family, friends, acquaintances and complete strangers was incredible. I want to specifically express gratitude to the following individuals (forgive me if I miss you):

  • bystanders at the scene who took time out of their day to assist with an animal emergency

  • the lady who went to Healing Leaves to communicate the emergency to the stranded customer

  • the stranded customer who took initiative to lock up Healing Leaves while I was dealing with an emergency

  • the lady who drove us to the vet and consoled me

  • my family and friends that consoled me via phone while en route to the vet (and afterwards)

  • the vet doctor, nurses and staff that tended to Miller and I with delicate hands and words

  • the vet waiting room clientele who were all vibrating love and compassion in their expressions/actions

  • family and friends that have gifted me, or given condolences, and or added to the celebration of life.

 

I am beyond grateful for all of the ongoing love and consoling being expressed to support me in your absence. I will love you forever Miller. You’re a beautiful light that touched so many humans. I’m grateful to have known such unconditional love. May you run over the rainbow bridge.  I’m looking forward to the day we are reunited in the next life…. 

 

-Love mommy.<3