The dad went to his workspace. Scraps of lumber were there that he believed would work for the job he must do.
The death had occurred a few hours before, and if a casket were to be, the dad would be the one. At the workbench he gauged the size, (At the vet’s office yesterday, the nurses had said Milo weighed four pounds.) then fastened the pieces together and made the little box. It was a casket for Milo.
When the box was finished, for a lining, Chloe brought Milo’s favorite blanket, the one he had died in, the one she had wrapped around him that last time when he staggered to her bed. Parvo is ugly and little Milo was bleeding, but in his final night Chloe cleaned up her puppy and lay down beside him in her bed. She slept an hour or so, and when she woke, she looked at his little body and knew that Milo had gone away. . .
The family gathered in the back yard for the service–one mom, one dad, five youngsters, and they buried him on a little hill. Chloe told me this afternoon they placed a cross there too.
Rest in peace to my little milo you were one of the best things to happen to me. Ill always remember and miss you. I love you baby