August 2017 will mark the fifth year since Milough came into my life and changed me forever. A goofy son and an even goofier dog, he is a soul rich in character and charm. It doesn't take more than one look to realize that he's staring right beyond and into that spot in your heart where you hide the most treasured secrets. But Milough wasn't always like that. In fact, he wasn't much of a dog at all when I first found him.
Left abandoned in an apartment by owners who just didn't have the patience for him, with not a wag to his tail or a glimmer to his eye he was nothing more than a shell when I we met. He could care nothing of the world or the people in it - for they had turned their back one too many times on him, and left him wandering in a world of terror and loneliness. As an inital gesture I extended a cheeseburger out. He didn't take it. Wouldn't even look at it. He was more of a ghost than he was a dog.
But, I was not so easily turned away. Despite his inital reluctancy one pupperoni after another lead him to care maybe just a little bit more about who I was... One brush after another lead him to want maybe just a little... for his belly to be rubbed and his hair to be combed smooth. Milough, little by little, started to come back to life.
He runs with a body so large but no understanding of how its thrown around. He talks and sings and bows if you ask. He even will take his own puppachino window side with a soft tug of his teeth on the rim of the cup. Milough is certainly no longer a drifter through life... but a spirit, enjoying every moment that is filled only with the love and adoration of his family.
Just as I have brought light to his life, he has brought life to mine. Struggling with mental illness and social anxiety its been always a battle to make friends and at best keep them. But Milough, no matter how awkward I am or how stupid I may act, has never judged me... has never shyed away from me. In a life where support never existed, he has been my protector.
This time though, it is my turn to protect him.
It was midafternoon on January the 16th where I noticed something wasn't right. His breathing was strangely irratic and he whined at the end of each breath. I decided it was best to take him in to the emergency room. They checked his lungs and from there told me that he had air in his chest that needed to come out. It was a procedure they often saw more with traumas than spontaneous instances. The cost was $750. With the help of my significant other we paid for the services and had the chest drained of 2.5 liters of air. We were told to head home but if things got worse to then consult another ER with more specialized services.
I brought him home and it was within 30 minutes that he was back to whining again. I couldn't feel comfortable not going. In the crazy sleet and rain of Michigan, I drove 40 minutes away to have him seen by the ER, all the while trying to keep the panicking at bay. They told me that he would have to get a CT scan of his chest and that more than likely would have to have surgery. One of his two lungs was faintly working and although they had no definite diagnosis yet... there was little doubt that whatever it was... it had to be fixed. I was given the estimate. My face went white. It was 11k.
Never do you realize how poor you are until you're given a situation where you literally are on the brink of going into cardiac arrest yourself due to the stress. This 11k... was what was separating me between a life still with one of the loves of my life... or having to face the heartbreak of losing him because of something as shallow as money. I decided to fight. For three hours I rallied what forces I had to scrape together enough to keep his chest free of air for the night and get a CT in the morning. But this.. this is where I stand.
I need more help. I need your help.
If you have been lucky enough in your life to never felt a loss, I envy you. But if you are one of the many who have... you know how painful it is... and for me, who struggles day to day with just a reason to get up in the morning... I cannot even began to fathom the pain I would feel losing my son to something that could've been taken care of had I been richer.
Any support, reblog, share is appreciated ten-fold. With my financial resources exhausted I'm reaching out to you for support. If any life is worth giving a second chance, it's this goofy goober