The Magic of Miloš
Before we had Miloš, Belgrade was a nice city with reserved, but kind people. Now, it’s hard to walk down the block without meeting a new person who fawns all over him and asks us questions. He’s a bit of a “man magnet” too; something about his tiny swagger has grown, well-dressed men crouching on the sidewalk to play with our pup. Serbian men are pretty macho, so it’s even more amazing when they talk to him in a voice normally reserved for babies.
Milos has forced me to learn new Serbian vocabulary: no, he doesn’t bite, he’s friendly, he’s three months old, is it ok for him (to approach your dog). My broken Serbian usually results in discussions about where I’m from, how we’re liking the city, etc. In his small, furry way, he’s transformed our Belgrade experience.
The magic of Miloš has even inspired friends and family to send packages. Packages for Miloš, that is. If we’re lucky we get a card addressed to us, and Miloš gets toys that we can barely pry out of his mouth.
We’d feel jealous about all the attention he’s getting, but he’s just so. freakin’.cute.
Especially when he goes crazy over a new toy.
We owe a big thank-you to friends and family who have sent us packages for the little guy, offered advice on training, suggested vet clinics, and a million other things we didn’t realize we needed to know. We also owe a big thank-you to Beogradjani who have made us feel even more welcome with their friendly questions and tolerance for a wriggling, licking, crazy pup.