Okay, so if you know me, you know that I love my dog. I am, after all “Mojo’s Pet”. I owe him a lot. I have been through a lot of shit in the past few years and I am convinced that he has saved me from further degrees of distress, pain, heartache and illness that I would not wish on my worst enemy. It’s like his mere presence just soaks it up and makes it go away, or at least diminish.
When I’m lying on the sofa, exhausted and feeling crappy, he comes over, tail a’wagging, sticks his cold wet little nose between the pillows and lays on a big kiss. I take him with me to the nursing home and his devilish little ways bring smiles to every face. They call him “Bobo” there. They don’t get his real name. He could care less. He gets a car ride out of it and a chance to stick his head out the window on not-so-cold days. And he gets to hang out with us.
And when you’re with Moj, you get the sense that to him, you are just the bestest people to be around ever!
I keep pictures of my little Mojito on my desk at work. He’s a real ice-breaker. “Aw, you have a dog! What’s his name?” Having a pet can ease even the weirdest social situations. You can meet people and immediately have something in common with them, especially other ‘pet people’.
Yes, scientifically, he may be unable to understand the English language. But I think he understands body language and other clues far more acutely than most humans. The slight change in the intonation of my voice causes his ears to move forward, in a quizzical look. How else could he understand when I’m sick? And when I say “Auntie Lizzy is coming!”, I know he’s more likely responding to the excitement in my voice than the name. But whatever. He knows me very well.
I owe him all that one can give a dog in this world: a bowl of kibble, a treat or two, a drink of clean water, a warm sleeping place, a belly rub….such simplicity! Mojo makes little noises when he’s on the cusp of sleep, drunk with tiredness. They’re little groans of satisfaction and contentment.
I wish that Mojo will live forever with me. But, I know that chances are, I will outlast him. It’s painful to think about. In fact, it almost stopped me from getting him in the first place. But, as the Little Prince said “You risk tears if you let yourself be tamed”.
"I am looking for friends.
What does that mean---tame?"
"It is an act too often neglected,"said the fox.
"It means to establish ties."
"To establish ties?"
"Just that," said the fox.
"to me, you are still nothing more than
a little boy who is just like
a hundred thousand other little boys.
And I have no need of you.
And you, on your part, have no need of me.
To you I am nothing more
than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes.
But if you tame me, then we shall need each other.
To me, you will be unique in all the world.
To you, I shall be unique in all the world. . ."
"I am beginning to understand," said the little prince.
When I’m lying on the sofa, exhausted and feeling crappy, he comes over, tail a’wagging, sticks his cold wet little nose between the pillows and lays on a big kiss. I take him with me to the nursing home and his devilish little ways bring smiles to every face. They call him “Bobo” there. They don’t get his real name. He could care less. He gets a car ride out of it and a chance to stick his head out the window on not-so-cold days. And he gets to hang out with us.
And when you’re with Moj, you get the sense that to him, you are just the bestest people to be around ever!
I keep pictures of my little Mojito on my desk at work. He’s a real ice-breaker. “Aw, you have a dog! What’s his name?” Having a pet can ease even the weirdest social situations. You can meet people and immediately have something in common with them, especially other ‘pet people’.
Yes, scientifically, he may be unable to understand the English language. But I think he understands body language and other clues far more acutely than most humans. The slight change in the intonation of my voice causes his ears to move forward, in a quizzical look. How else could he understand when I’m sick? And when I say “Auntie Lizzy is coming!”, I know he’s more likely responding to the excitement in my voice than the name. But whatever. He knows me very well.
I owe him all that one can give a dog in this world: a bowl of kibble, a treat or two, a drink of clean water, a warm sleeping place, a belly rub….such simplicity! Mojo makes little noises when he’s on the cusp of sleep, drunk with tiredness. They’re little groans of satisfaction and contentment.
I wish that Mojo will live forever with me. But, I know that chances are, I will outlast him. It’s painful to think about. In fact, it almost stopped me from getting him in the first place. But, as the Little Prince said “You risk tears if you let yourself be tamed”.
"I am looking for friends.
What does that mean---tame?"
"It is an act too often neglected,"said the fox.
"It means to establish ties."
"To establish ties?"
"Just that," said the fox.
"to me, you are still nothing more than
a little boy who is just like
a hundred thousand other little boys.
And I have no need of you.
And you, on your part, have no need of me.
To you I am nothing more
than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes.
But if you tame me, then we shall need each other.
To me, you will be unique in all the world.
To you, I shall be unique in all the world. . ."
"I am beginning to understand," said the little prince.
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