Meet Miss Millie
She Came for a Purpose
Meet Miss Millie.
And as her story unfolds, you may begin to see how she connects with so many of us. Plus, she has become the best meditating partner ever. She’s Amazing!
Just a few months after arriving on the Western Slope of Colorado, I decided I needed a dog. I drove down to Moab, Utah, to a rescue, fully convinced I wanted a puppy.
But as I was led through the kennels, something shifted.
There were a couple of dogs barking eagerly at the gate—but standing back, all alone, was Millie.
Her story: adopted as a puppy, returned at five years old because her family was moving and couldn’t take her.
What kind of family does that? I remember thinking.
She had been there four months.
This particular rescue, brings in dogs from Reservations, which I deeply respect. If you’ve ever seen the number of stray dogs on Reservations, you know how heartbreaking it is.
I turned to the woman helping me and said,
“I want to take her home. She doesn’t belong here.”
“But you came for a puppy.”
“I changed my mind.”
We spent the day together—she jumped in and out of my SUV as we stopped for supplies, lunch, tea—and by evening, we were heading back into the mountains.
That’s where the real story begins.
Millie was described as a lab mix. She does have a touch of that yellow lab look—but her temperament? Completely different.
She came with fears—men, brooms, strangers… you name it.
I called a dog whisperer. She told me this dog had experienced real cruelty.
Then a trainer reminded me:
“She’s not going to be like your other dogs. She’s her own being.”
So I ordered a DNA test.
Oh. My. Goodness.
Twenty-six breeds.
At the top? Guardian dogs—Great Pyrenees, Akbash, and other sheepdogs.
Then came guard dogs—German Shepherd, Doberman, Rottweiler.
The Labrador Retriever? Way down at the bottom.
Everything suddenly made sense.
And yet…
From the moment we got home, she jumped out of the car, walked into the house—and has refused to get back in the car ever since.
Absolutely not.
Now let me bring in something I’ve been learning through this cancer journey.
A small realization at first… but it’s becoming something much bigger.
Learning to love myself.
To accept who I am.
To trust my own way of being.
Instead of always shaping myself around others.
Because I am, at my core, a people pleaser.
I managed hotels, guest ranches, and lodges. I learned how to make everyone comfortable. It became second nature.
And somewhere along the way… I lost track of myself.
Not long ago, I shared that I woke from a deep sleep to a man’s voice saying:
“You need to learn to love yourself.”
It startled me.
But now… I’m beginning to understand.
Because saying it is one thing.
Living it? That’s something else entirely.
Up until recently, I didn’t even know “people pleaser” was a real pattern.
Yesterday, while hiking along the river, a man tried to give Millie a treat.
She refused.
Would not take it.
After he walked away, I told her, “That’s okay. You get to respond however you want.”
And as we continued walking, something clicked.
That is who she is.
She’s not wrong.
She’s not broken.
She’s not difficult.
She’s simply not a Labrador.
And there I was… trying to make her into one.
Cha-ching.
Do I even know who I am anymore?
Or have I been living behind a version of myself shaped to please others?
How often do we do this?
In relationships. In families. In our work.
We bend, adjust, perform—until we no longer recognize ourselves.
No one ever told us it was okay not to be liked by everyone.
But it is.
In fact, it may be essential.
As we walked through the woods, I realized something else:
Maybe that’s why I chose her.
Maybe, standing back in that kennel, she was already teaching me.
“Wake up, Susan.”
Here I am trying to reshape her—just as so many people in our lives try to reshape us.
Parents. Partners. Society.
And we go along with it… until something in us begins to resist.
So yes—Millie and I are on an expedition.
A shared journey.
Because for years, people expected her to behave like a Yellow Lab—without ever understanding she was a Great Pyrenees at heart.
No one ever asked who she really was.
What an injustice.
To such a sweet, strong soul.
And while all of this is unfolding…
Spring has arrived in the Rockies.
Warm. Unseasonably warm.
Our Mirabelle plum tree is in full bloom out front—covered in delicate blossoms that will soon give way to the most extraordinary fruit.
Small, golden, sweet beyond anything you can imagine.
The branches stretch over the fence, and passersby stop to taste.
And I love that.
There is something about abundance meant to be shared.
Coming Up
I’ve signed up for a Nature Writing class through Orion Magazine starting this week—focused on trees, humans, and learning to truly see.
I’m hoping it takes me deeper into my own writing through nature.
In April, I’ll be heading into the high country for a five-day Buddhist silent meditation retreat.
I’ve wanted this for years.
I hosted many of these retreats when I managed the ranch in the Chiricahuas—but this one… this one is for me.
And I couldn’t be more ready.
Books I’m Reading
Of all the books I’ve explored on cancer and remission, one continues to rise to the top:
Love, Medicine & Miracles by Dr. Bernie Siegel.
It’s timeless.
It opens the door to possibility.
If you only read one book—read this one.
If you have time for more, I recommend:
You Are the Placebo written by Dr. Joe Dispenza (and the meditation that accompanies it—it’s powerful)
Spontaneous Healing by Andrew Weil -
Keep a pen nearby. These are the kinds of books you return to again and again.
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