Humans by nature remember. We mark important days in our lives, celebrate birthdays, commemorate anniversary dates. Sunday, January 27, 2013 will be one year since we said goodbye to our beloved family companion, Mocha. She lived a good life, and enjoyed 14 years surrounded by her brothers and Mom and Dad. Anyone who knows me will surely understand that this week has been full of tears as I can vividly recall our world 12 months ago. The day before my 47th birthday I took Mocha in to see her lifelong vet because she was not eating normally and I sensed. I sensed that this would be one of those moments which are marked in our family history. Very quickly the doctor knew things were not good and ran tests. On my birthday we learned that Mocha’s kidneys were failing and time was short. We changed up her diet, added even more pills to her daily regimen and my 16 year old son stepped up to the plate and administered IV fluids to our girl every other day. He knew I could not do it and that was the first time I saw in this boy the man he would become. He loved her and did what he knew no one else could for her. A gift I treasure.
At her diagnosis the vet told us we might get 6 more months; we got 15 more days. I have often wondered over the last year if the vet really missed the mark on how long Mo might live, or if she gave me a gift. I don’t know what those two weeks would have been like if I had only heard the loud clock ticking off the remainder of time we had left. Instead, I forged ahead making plans, pricing medical products we would need for the next 6 months, taking Mocha to her beloved Rock Creek Park and preparing salmon and scrambled eggs for her breakfast. By this time her appetite was so poor that we fed her anything she would eat. I will always treasure one of our last videos of Mocha eating her very own Happy Meal. Another gift to see my best girl enjoying food again and my precious sons laughing.
Mocha gave us many gifts during her 14 years with us. She taught us how to stop and smell even when we felt hurried to get to the next thing on our list. She understood her place in the family and that she “outranked” the youngest child (the man who later took care of administering her meds). The two, boy and dog, enjoyed a life of plaguing each other. As soon as Trevor left his room, Mocha entered in search of anything she could steal. It was a game which brought us many smiles. Trev and Mo, very early in her life, were involved in an incident which included the breaking of a brand new glass floor lamp. Only the two of them were in the room and both blamed the other for the running and knocking over. Mocha made a deathbed confession about that lamp; she confessed that Trevor broke it. A gift of remembering when life was simply about running and jumping.
It has been both a long and short year. I can honestly say that I think of Mocha daily. Pictures and paintings of her fill the house; her ashes reside in a beautiful wooden box which I treasure. It has taken at least 6 or 8 months where I could think of her, or share a story, and not break down in tears. Mostly. This week, of course, remembering the last of everything, has been pretty teary.
I loved being a dog mom, and especially a stay-at-home, homeschool dog Mom. Mocha was part of all I did, and spent more time with her family than the average dog. We kenneled her one time when we had to fly to a family wedding, and another time we had a friend move in when we took the kids to Disney. Other than that, Mocha traveled with us on all our family vacations. She spent weeks in Canaan Valley WV, Chincoteague, VA and the beaches of the Outer Banks. If bags were packed, she parked herself in the foyer to ensure we didn’t forget her. Like we ever could.
Part of my sadness is not just the loss of my best girl, but it is the realization that that part of my life has ended. Trevor graduates high school in May and will be joining his brother at college in Pennsylvania in August. In September I plan to return to the work force after decades at home. It doesn’t make any sense to even think about adopting again since the house will be empty. It wouldn’t be fair. So, Mocha was my first and last dog. I am grateful that God gave me the one He did.
I love you Mocha and know one day you’ll be running alongside me without pain and with great joy.
Mom
I remember the first time you came to The Animal Place with Mocha, she was a tiny ball of fuzz and the boys were two young kids. I watched all three grow up! I think back to the time I told you Mocha was a bit “overweight”. You were so upset with me, but immediately took action and I never again had to ever say anything to you about her weight. She was so lucky to have y’all as such a loving family. I know this is a difficult anniversary . Dr. G
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We were really blessed to have those 14 years. Thanks to you and the rest of the staff for the love you showed her.
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I feel your pain, as part of the grief I was living with was the loss of my dog of 9 1/2 years. Sept was the anniversary of our loss and was the impetus for my seeing a therapist for the first time in my life. You and Mocha were very lucky to have each other.
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It is amazing to me how these little four legged friends can fill our hearts so completely, and leave such a big hole when they are gone. It took a really really long time to recover from her loss. I am sorry you experienced the same pain.
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