Milo and Rosie

Milo just knew it was going to be a good day.

“Milo, sit,” Rosie said. Milo sat. “Good boy, Milo.” Milo thumped his tail against the floor as Rosie patted his head. THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. Milo was a good boy. He licked Rosie’s small hand, and she giggled.

Milo liked hearing Rosie laugh. He liked it even more when he could make Rosie laugh. Milo loved Rosie. He knew Rosie loved him. They were the best of friends. They had been the best of friends ever since her parents brought her home. She was little now—she had been even smaller back then. That seemed like such a long time ago to Milo.

Rosie didn’t do much at first—she cried and took a lot of naps. Milo didn’t mind. He’d curl up next to her cradle and take naps with her. As she got older and began to toddle around, that was when their real adventures began. They’d been going on adventures ever since.

Milo wriggled and scooted forward to lick her cheek—Rosie had syrupy pancakes for breakfast. Yum. Rosie giggled again—peals of laughter that made Milo keep licking her face. Rosie fell backward. She and Milo rolled on the floor together playfully. More licks. More giggles.

“Rosie, the bus is here—don’t be late!” her mother called from the other room.

The giggles stopped. The licks stopped. Rosie sat up; her small face suddenly serious as she looked at Milo. He stared back, equally serious.

“I have to go to school now, Milo,” she told him. “But I’ll be back, and we’ll have great fun together. Understand?”

Milo wagged his tail against the floor. THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. Rosie told him that almost every morning. She always came back, just like she promised, so Milo wasn’t too concerned that she was leaving him. He didn’t know what school was, but Milo figured it was kind of like work. Rosie’s parents went there almost every morning too. They also came back at the end of the day—usually later than Rosie.

Milo didn’t mind. That meant he and Rosie had lots of time to play together and have great fun, just the two of them. Milo liked having fun with Rosie. They’d explore the woods behind the house and they’d play fetch in the backyard for hours and hours on end. He licked Rosie’s hand to let her know that he understood.

Rosie giggled and gave him a great, big hug. Her arms didn’t quite make it around his neck. Milo was a large dog, and Rosie was very small. Milo was always careful to be gentle when they played together. He didn’t want to hurt Rosie. She was his best friend.

Rosie clambered to her feet. “Milo, sit,” she said. Milo sat. “Milo, wait.” Milo waited. “Good boy, Milo.” Rosie patted his head again and then turned and grabbed her backpack from next to the front door. She grinned and waved at Milo. “Bye, Mom!” she shouted and then said to Milo, “I’ll see you later!”

“Bye, Rosie, have a good day at school!” her mother called back.

Rosie threw her backpack over her shoulder and dashed out the front door. She ran down the street corner to where the school bus was idling. She hopped on the bus. A few more children got on, and then the bus slowly rumbled down the neighborhood street.

Milo sat by the front door. Rosie had told him to wait for her to get back home. Milo waited. Milo was a good boy.

A few minutes later, Rosie’s mother headed out for work. Rosie’s father had already left for work. He was gone longer than Rosie and her mother. “Hold down the fort until we get back, Milo.” Rosie’s mother scratched Milo’s ears absentmindedly as she passed him.

Milo wagged his tail to let Rosie’s mother know that he would. THUMP. THUMP. Two “thumps”—only Rosie got three. That was because Milo and Rosie were the best of friends.

The front door closed, Rosie’s mother locked it, and then it was just Milo sitting in a quiet, darkened house. He was all alone. Milo didn’t mind. He yawned a great, big, toothy yawn—his tongue curled out of his mouth. Then Milo slid back on his haunches, sinking down to lie in front of the door.

Sunlight streamed lazily through the window next to the door and landed on Milo. It was warm and cozy.

Milo rested his head on his forepaws and closed his eyes. He promptly fell asleep, snoring loudly. His paws twitched and moved—he let out a few small “yips” in his sleep. Milo was dreaming of running around the yard with Rosie, barking, and having great fun. It was a good dream.

Milo slept for a long, long time. He woke up to the sound of a key turning the deadbolt in the front door. Rosie was home—he hadn’t even heard the bus! Milo scrambled wildly to his feet, tail wagging frantically back and forth. He barked joyfully to let Rosie know that he’d been waiting for her this whole time, that he was a good boy—yes, he was—and that he was ready to have great fun with her. Milo wriggled his whole body excitedly. Most days, Rosie would throw open the front door. She’d laugh and run forward to give Milo a big hug.

Today, the front door opened slowly. And Milo instantly knew that something was wrong.

Rosie was home—but she wasn’t laughing. Her shirt looked crumpled and dirty, and the left knee of her jeans was torn open. Her hands were scraped, and her knee was bleeding. Silent tears brimmed in her eyes. Her lower lip wobbled as she stood there on the porch. She limped inside, closed the door, dropped her backpack, and sank down to sit on the floor. Then she started to cry. The tears rolled down her cheeks, and her shoulders shook.

Milo didn’t know why Rosie was sad. He sensed that she was hurt. Milo didn’t like it when Rosie was hurt or sad. He wanted her to be happy. Milo knew what to do. He padded forward and sat next to Rosie at the front door. He licked her cheek, trying to be helpful.

Rosie started to cry even harder and threw her arms around Milo’s neck. “Oh, Milo,” she whispered. “Why do the other kids in my class have to be so mean?” She buried her head in his shoulder, sobbing.

Milo didn’t mind.

There they sat. They sat for a long, long time.

Eventually, Milo whined softly and nudged Rosie’s hand with his nose. She began to pet him, but he could tell her heart wasn’t really in it. Milo flopped over with a dull THUD. He rolled onto his back with his paws in the air. He looked upside-down at Rosie. His tongue was hanging out of his mouth.

Rosie still looked sad. Milo wriggled on his back a bit. Rosie began to smile, despite her tears, and scratched his belly. Milo rumbled happily and wriggled some more. At the sight of him, Rosie let out a little laugh.

There it was.

Milo liked hearing Rosie laugh. She flopped down to lie next to Milo on the floor and looked into his eyes. Milo looked back at her. He scooted closer so he could lick her face. Rosie giggled.

“Oh, Milo.” Rosie hugged him tightly. “I’m glad we’re best friends.” Milo was glad too. He licked her face again.

Rosie held onto him. Her tears were beginning to dry. “You’re a good boy, Milo,” she whispered. “I love you.” Milo thumped his tail against the floor to let her know that he loved her too. THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.

It still ended up being a good day.

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