Where's Milo!

The holidays are always filled with surprises, so when I had reunited with my long lost Aunt and Uncle in Nevada I made plans for us to visit. I was thrilled because I hadn’t seen them in years.

“I don’t know why you have to pick up the whole family and drag us out to Nevada when Christmas is just around the corner,” my husband was complaining.

“It’s the holidays,” I reminded him, “and family should see each other. Besides they were so excited to get our Christmas card with the family photo, they insisted we visit. And the best part is they want us to stay in their motor home parked in their backyard. It will accommodate the whole family, it’s completely stocked, and the kids can be close to their Aunt and Uncle for a couple of days. I think it would be nice!”

“Who are these people again?” My husband asked, trying desperately to conjure a memory. “How close can you be with this Auntie and Uncle?” my husband asked warily. “I don’t think I’ve ever even heard of them.”

“That’s because you don’t pay attention to me when we watch the family movies.”

“The only people that I don’t know from your family movies are the Chinese couple.”

“That’s them!” I responded surprised. “You do remember!” I smiled approvingly.

“Oh,” said my husband a little taken back. “I just didn’t realize that they were related to you.”

“Well, not by blood,” I confessed, dismissing this minor detail with a wave of my hand. “They were our neighbors the whole time I was growing up and we adopted them.”

“I didn’t know adults were adoptable,” he said jokingly. I gave him a disapproving look and he added with more compassion. “I’m just saying that time is limited around the holidays. Maybe planning a trip to see them in July would be a little less stressful.”

But by the end of the week, we were on our way to Nevada so the children could meet their long lost Uncle Stan and Auntie Jan.

It was such a pleasure to see them after all these years and they warmly embraced us, and quickly escorted us to the comforts of our accommodations for the next two nights. As we stepped from the house into the back yard, we were greeted hostilely by a 100 pound doberman. He bared his teeth at us as his owner screamed, “Milo!” and then added a command in Mandarin, which settled him down to only a slight frenzy.

“We need to protect the grounds from thieves,” said Uncle Stan nodding toward several abandoned cars, trailers and tractors. “But, he will warm up to you,” Stan assured us smiling affectionately and then rethinking things said, “Maybe call us in the morning to let you out of the motor home just in case he doesn’t.”

“Good idea,” my husband concurred.

“Here are some doggie biscuits,” said Stan handing a baggie to my husband. “Use them in the event of an emergency. Just make sure he can smell what it is and then throw it as far away as possible.” Stan affectionately petted his prized possession and added, “He is actually very well trained but he only understands Mandarin, so just use the biscuits.”

They waved at us as they headed back into the house. Milo trotted after them but once left alone outside, aggressively turned toward the motor home and bolted toward us.

My husband threw a doggie biscuit and the dog changed course to pursue its treat, as my husband slammed the door of the motor home closed.

“Where’s the luggage?” I asked.

“It’s just outside the door,” my husband answered peering out the window.

“And where’s Milo?” I asked concerned.

“I have no idea’” answered my husband.

“Dobermans are awesome watch dogs,” commented my oldest son who had pulled up information on his phone. “They are particularly stealth like,” he continued reading, “…intelligent and difficult to see at night.”

“No kidding?” said my husband sarcastically.

“Okay!” I said commandeering the troops, “Everyone look out the window. We’re gonna play ‘Where’s Milo’ so daddy can get the luggage.”

My husband stood behind the closed front door, armed with the biscuits.

“There he is!” said my younger son, obviously very practiced at this game. He pointed toward the garage.

“My husband began to open the door and was met by the ferocious dog and instantly slammed the door closed again.

“My bad!” acknowledged my younger son. “But I see him this time for sure!”

“Where is he?” I asked.

“He’s peeing on our luggage,” he answered.

The next couple of days were eventful to say the least. We made several phone calls requesting escorts to and from the house and constant refills on the doggy biscuits.

As we were pulling out of the driveway to head home, I thought Milo was actually a little sad to see us go.

“Yeah,” my husband remarked wryly, “because he thinks we’re taking the biscuits with us.”

In the end, maybe my husband was right. A trip out in July would have been a little less stressful; even if only because the extra day light would make Milo easier to spot. Next time I will have to take that into consideration.