Milo, my Miracle.
He is gone.
It is with the most unbearable sorrow mixed with awe that his spirit once graced this planet, that I announce his passing, which occurred yesterday, while cradled in my arms.
Milagro Antonio de Cielo, age 11, was a miracle from God, who found me on my birthday, August 24th 2004, on an empty street in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico.
It was a star-crossed holy encounter; total beshert, as are ALL great affairs of the heart and soul.
Milo LOVED human contact, deep affection and exuberant displays of love.
His beauty and magnetism were simply OFF THE CHARTS.
An Example:
On his first day in New York City, I took him out for a steak sandwich and then a long walk through Central Park, his new playground.
Then, as we sat on the steps leading to the Bethesda Fountain, he was enjoying his first street cart hot dog, when a woman appeared, slowly ascending the stairs towards us.
She took a moment to stare into Milo's eyes.
Then, she gasped, and with an air of deep reverence, she said, "That is a BEAUTIFUL dog."
...That woman...by the way...was Barbara Walters.
On Milagro's first day in Central Park, he attracted the appearance and attention of Barbara Walters.
An icon was drawn to -- and recognized -- an icon.
Milagro was an ICON, and anybody who met him, knew this.
He was so unusually magical.
SUCH a proud force.
One time I made the mistake of taking him for a walk in Times Square, which is not far from my apartment.
Mayhem.
Milo attracted swarms of people wanting to pet him and have their picture taken with him. He stopped people in their tracks, literally, and the next thing you know I was like his press agent, standing off to the side, while people posed and snapped and gazed at him in awe, like he was a celebrity.
HAHAHAHAHAHA
People were treating him like he was Tom Cruise or Patrick Swayze.
He loved the attention, he smiled heartily and yet his essence was filled with a deep stillness, like the Dalai Lama.
He was my Dolly Lama.
My precious dolly, Milo.
My mother was convinced he was a king, and proclaimed him royalty.
I called him my prince, and made sure that he never slept without his head resting on a pillow.
If you think this sounds far-fetched, just ask my family and close friends.
I followed him around with a pillow, like some sort of personal assistant/doting Jewish mother/nutbag.
I WAS SIMPLY GAGA FOR HIM, AND WANTED TO HONOR EVERY SINGLE MOMENT HE BREATHED.
And he loved it, he would place his head on his pillow, and then make a sound of deep contentment and then lick his lips as if to say, "All is right in my world."
And then all would be right with MY world.
Milo was such a gentle spirit.
He was a natural empath, which is why he seemed more human -- and less dog. He was not interested in chasing balls, but was very interested in connecting with people.
His eyes were other-worldy beautiful, giving him a magnetism which beckoned you to want to stare at him, which we all did...ALL THE TIME.
He would look into your eyes with such a depth of connection that often times people would confess that they felt he was staring into their souls.
My birth mother would look at him, and then without fail would exclaim in a hushed/strange tone:
"That dog's 'differnt'."
She would look at Milo and exclaim, "I'm sorry, but this is not a dog. This is some other magical creature disguised as a dog."
...And she was right.
Milo loved and was so deeply loved.
Milo LOVED sleeping in bed with me.
I would do anything to keep him in bed with me at night.
We would start out spooning, but then he would get very hot, so I would let him take over my pillow and then I would crawl to the bottom of the bed, and sleep there...like a dog. :)
Milo loved going to the country with our neighbor Bob and his best friend, Buddy, who was a beautiful black dog.
Milo loved driving in the car when we would travel to Pennsylvania for holidays and special visits.
He would sit on a big pillow in the front seat on my lap, all 50 pounds, and as the miles would pass, he would gaze out at the world content and happy.
Milo loved dinner parties, huge gatherings, and any place where there was laughter.
He loved being in the middle of the action.
He loved Christine's meatloaf, big bones and Holly's vanilla biscotti.
He loved his bench outside of Bisco Latte.
Milo LOVED Central Park.
We would take long walks together with Postie, with various friends, with family, and end up at the Museum of Natural History Dog Run, where he would run and play with the other dogs to his heart's content.
One morning, Milo and I were walking in Central Park.
It was before 9 am, and so he was allowed off leash.
Suddenly, he ran to something and I saw him sniff it and then he turned and looked at me, beckoning me to come.
I came running, and discovered that Milo had found an abandoned baby bird.
It looked as if if had just been born, no real fur on its tiny body.
I praised Milo and then scooped up the baby bird and put it in my fedora, and after a series of inquiries, Milo and I ended up at a bird sanctuary on the Upper West Side.
When I walked through the door, and told the woman running the place that Milo had found a baby bird abandoned in the grass far from a tree, she said firmly, "Take that baby back immediately to where you found it. I am sure its mother is looking for it."
When I explained calmly that this was indeed an impossibility, because there had been no trees around and it was a large grassy area, she said, "Let nature do its thing. The mother is waiting for her baby to return. You'll see."
So Milo and I took the baby bird back, and together we sat watching and waiting for nature to do its thing.
And sure enough, not even five minutes went by when the mother bird came swooping down out of nowhere and scooped up the tiny body and just like that -- they vanished.
The mother was indeed, waiting for her baby to return.
And now...just like that Mamma Bird, I, too, am waiting for my baby to return.
It just doesn't seem possible, that Milo has gone.
I am inconsolable, reeling with the desperation and grief that comes to us all with an unthinkable loss.
Thank you, dear friends, for honoring my beautiful angel boy, my partner in all things miraculous and other-worldly.
Milo, my precious miracle, my heart is bursting with an all new dazzling depth of love...all because of you and only because of you.
With such admiration for who you were and will continue to be as my angel and guide.
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