When they found her, they needed to remove the puppies to save her life. It was only a month later that she came into our lives. Her big, soulful, puppy dog eyes told you everything she ever wanted to say — without needing to talk. In the beginning, she was scared of men, other dogs and brooms. She would snatch treats from my hand like a ferrel dog (used to fending for herself), but within months, her guard came down, she gained weight, and her true colors started to show. 

All she wanted to do was to make people happy, be around people, cuddle people, love. She was 100% devoted to our family. She helped support and emotionally heal my wife and I, as we struggled for a couple years to start a family of our own. When my daughter Audrey was born, Millie would sit next to her, guarding her crib with an occasional lick. As Audrey turned into a toddler, Millie would follow her from room to room and love chewing on her My little ponies. Audrey didn’t mind. We thought that Millie would be around forever. That her Audrey would be best friends for at least the next 10 years...

On the evening of Valentine’s Day 2021, Millie suddenly started to limp. Then, within an hour, she was dragging her back feet. I immediately took her to the emergency room and stayed out until 4am, until I was told by the emergency vet that she had a degenerative disease — one that is very common with puppy mill dogs and with her body type. They told me that it had made her acutely paralyzed. 

Millie was barely 4 years old. I was exhausted from staying up all night. They told me that I had 2 options. I could put her to sleep right there, or I could take her to a special animal hospital and a specialized vet could do surgery — but, it had to happen NOW. They told me that there was only a 50/50 chance that the procedure would work, that each minute counted, and that it would cost around $10,000.00.

I had just started working at Scarritt Group. I had been crying all night and morning — and was supposed to be on a call with Adrienne that morning. I was a wreck. A new dad, who had recently purchased his first house, solely supporting a family and I didn’t know where on earth I had about $4K that I could spend towards it, but  I had no idea where I was going to find the rest in time.  When I joined my call, Adrienne asked me what was wrong and I explained.  Without hesitation, she said, “Give me the phone number of the vet. I’d really like to help.”

How can you even put into words the generosity of that moment? It was like prayers were answered. That kind of kindness and generosity is almost unheard of in this day and age — and to be honest, I didn’t even know how to accept such help! There is literally no way on earth to say thank you enough.  I don’t think there ever will be.  I think I remember asking, “really?” And she responded, “I love animals, Mark. They’re family!”

Thanks to her/Scarritt’s generosity, we were able to take Millie to get the spinal surgery that morning. Millie was only 4.5 years old. Her soul was so pure, and positive, and sweet. I’ve never, ever known a dog as sweet as her in my life. Every vet we took her too over the years said something similar to “Wow, she is really so sweet, such a good girl. A lot of people say they have a sweet dog, but she’s something else.”  And she was.

Over a period of 4 months, we did the surgery, daily exercises, acupuncture, and even started physical therapy — but it was hard. Very hard. The doctors said that usually if the surgery works, she should start hobbling again in about 2 weeks and will regain her bladder control. However, she never did.  Meanwhile, she started developing awful soars from dragging herself — and although she never complained, I could tell that they really bothered her, and she was in pain from them 24/7.  So after everything we went through — and we really tried our hardest — but we came to the realization that it was a quality of life issue for her.  So, we made what may be one of the hardest decisions I ever had to make and said goodbye to our sweet little girl.  I felt like I was “blowing out a bright candle” — or taking away a positive spirit/energy from the world. But, I would talk to Millie about it every night, and I felt like she was telling me that it was her time.  It was becoming very emotionally and physically exhausting for everyone — Millie included.

On our last full day together, we took her for a walk around the neighborhood in a little red wagon. We gave her whatever we were eating for dinner. I told her how much she meant to our family. I put a little diaper with duckies on her and let her sleep in our bed, which she wasn’t been able to do in quite some time. She cuddled up in my arms between me and my wife just like she always used to. I’m sobbing as I’m writing this right now.

Her transition into the next realm was very peaceful. She sat in Claire’s lap, while I pet her in her favorite spots and sang a song that I made up — which I’d always sing to her when she would follow me around our house. I sang it until her eyes closed. Then gave her a kiss goodbye.

It’s so strange how a little, itty bitty creature can make you feel so much. How they may be little, but their spirit and energy is so enormous. I do think of pets as little angel beings that come into our lives — at just the right time — for some reason, and are there to help open our eyes, or our hearts, or teach us life lessons, or prepare us somehow for what is to come. She left us way too early. As I edit this 3 years later, the grief still comes in waves. 

She was just so sweet, so kind, and had was a fountain of never ending unconditional love and support. She had so much love to give — and that is really all she wanted in return. It kind of reminds me of that book, “The giving tree” by Shel Silverstein. Even in the very end, she helped support us, constantly giving us love, wanting us to be happy, and not wanting to be the source of all of the family’s stress — even when we had to make this impossible choice and decision.

Although this may not seem like the happiest of endings — there are 2 really happy and important takeaways:

I was able to witness true, honest to god generosity — which I feel so incredibly thankful and lucky for — as it seems to be rare and running short on supply these days. In some ways it even restored my faith in humanity. It was an amazing, life changing act of kindness for me — and one that happened before the Scarritt Foundation was even up and running. So, that being said, I know — without a doubt —  that their mission is true — and that as time goes on, they will create a monumental shift on the lives of animals and the hearts of humans. At the core of the Scarritt Foundation is real, true, love & concern for all animals.  I know in my heart that the impact of Scarritt Foundation will be profound and felt by so many for generations to come.

The other takeaway is this. Through the kindness of Adrienne and Scarritt was I able to spend a few more months with Millie — and I don’t have to spend my life thinking “What if?” I can’t imagine not getting Millie the operation and than having to live with that thought: “What if I was able to get Millie that operation? Would it have fixed her? Did I do the right thing even though I couldn’t afford it? Thanks to Adrienne I know the real the answer, and can go through my grief knowing that I did just about everything I possibly could to help. 

And one other thing that has helped me get through the grieving process is the thought that our family was always just supposed to be a pit stop for Millie. That for some reason, we were all supposed to be together — even for just a short time —  to learn a little bit more about what it means to love and to be loved — before Millie finally reunites with her babies that she was too young to have —  and before our family welcomed our next one into the world.  

We love you Millie “Moops.”

And we miss you dearly. 

We will see you again some day. 

I know we will.