Lie Down, Little Mila

Coco's dog Mila was a good dog. She will be missed and, to the extent that his young son impersonates the spunky little girl, I am glad that her spirit lives on.

I am lucky enough to have gotten to know Mila over the past 15 years. I remember a time when, for some reason that was never clear to me, my assigned sleeping location was the kitchen floor at Coco's house. Everyone else had a bed or a couch or a deflated blow-up of some sort for comfort. I was given an old musty rug, one corner of which was wadded up to form my pillow, the remainder my blanket.

When I awoke the next morning, who was lying on the floor, sharing my rug cuddled next to me? Three gorgeous naked women? No. A deflated blow-up? No. It was Mila. We both stretched lazily, shared a knowing glance, and then ambled across the kitchen floor for a bowl full of kibble. Yes, Mila was a sharing dog.

Like her master, Mila was a sporting dog. Ball in the mouth, tail end wagging vigorously, romping wildly through the grass - and Mila was the same way. Oh, she was a runner.

And in her final days, Mila was a pacing dog. I sensed her nervousness during our last visit, and I'm quite sure she could understand the conversation as we discussed her health condition and "the options." "Click, click, click" as she paced from room to room unable to find comfort. That was very sad.

Now, Mila has found peace, and she lies in a special place, cuddled up in an old musty rug with the deity of her choice.