My sweet Mo turned 18 this year, and he died peacefully last week (thank you so much Dr. Kitt). Mo spent his whole life making mine happier and better. To honor him, (since canines can’t vote) I ask if all humans who turned 18 this year would register & vote. Beyond that, I’m extraordinarily grateful (and temporarily devastated) for this amazing being in my life. In the end, he had lost his eyesight, his hearing, and his sense of smell, but he was still the best pupper.
Here’s a link to some of my favorite pictures of Mo and some of his favorite humans: Google photo album
Mo was rescue dog, and my Mom and I drove to the middle-of-nowhere Wisconsin to pick Mo up. He rescued me at a point in my life that I needed some extra TLC. He used to snuggle up on your chest and under your chin when you asked, “Mo Mo, hug?” When he was more able-bodied, he would jump from the floor straight up into your arms, if you tapped your chest. It was amazing! While originally named “Mozambique” from the rescue org, he went by Mo. Or by Mo Mo, Mo Me Mo, Mo Mo Schmo, Mo Man, Mosef, Moskie, Mosie Mo, and my bestest boy.
“The reality is that you will grieve forever. You will not ‘get over’ the loss of a loved one; you will learn to live with it. You will heal and you will rebuild yourself around the loss you have suffered. You will be whole again but you will never be the same. Nor should you be the same nor would you want to.” – Elisabeth Kubler-Ross