My beautiful blonde buddy left us, of all days, on 9/11. He was acting listless late in the afternoon, and my wife and I rushed him to emergency care along with Duke. By 2:30 the next morning, the three of us headed back to our car without him. We had all said our good-byes, and we had laid hands (and paws) on him as he passed from this world to the next.
Allow me to share the tale of how he came into our lives nearly a dozen years ago:
Upon picking up my little girl from a week-long gymnastics camp in rural southeastern California, the reunited family began driving north again. My wife got a text message from another parent who had left the same camp and was headed south through the Mojave desert. They saw in the desert a dog walking aimlessly. Since the dad driving the car is, like me, a tender-hearted sort, he pulled over, and the dog immediately ran under the car for shade. They got him a bowl of water, and he lapped it up.
Who knows why the dog was there or how long he had been there. But this dog was going to die without someone taking the opportunity – – – and, thus, we instantly decided (via text) that we were going to turn around and bring this dog home. So, they started heading back north, and we started heading back south, and we meet just about where we had both started an hour before.
We already had two dogs with us (yep, this was a crowded vehicle), but we would make do. The other dad handed me the dog, and I held it and spoke to it. He was a good-looking dog, and he seemed calm, although I’m sure he was bewildered. I placed him in my car, and the other two dogs settled in with him quickly. It was time to drive home – – five hours more.
The dog, now named Mojave after the desert where he was found, has quickly settled in. He’s been lovingly bathed, fed, watered, introduced to the myriad of creatures that live around my yard, and is an expert at going through the dog door. As with all canines here, he has full run of the house, and nothing is off limits.
We have sent information and pictures to animal organizations in the area, in the unlikely event that someone lost the dog through innocent reasons, but I suspect we have a permanent new family member. It is not often we get to be of service to others in need, but I feel that when such opportunities present themselves, it is important to embrace them. Making another creature happy, no matter how many legs they have, is good for the soul.
He certainly was good for the soul. He was never particularly welcoming to strangers, but he adored his family, and I feel a Mojave-shaped hole in my heart. The rhythm and sounds of the house are totally different.
And I cannot glance over to his now-empty window seat without feeling a tug on my heart.
Here he is, making use of Coda’s ample backside as a pillow.
And, just weeks after Coda’s passing, here he is checking out his new family member.
Dukie and Mojave were inseparable, and I’m so sorry that my pup doesn’t have his friend anymore.
Below is one of the last photos of him. It was taken in a beautiful new property that I’m sure will be loaded with marvelous new memories for years to come. Sadly, he will be there only in spirit.
I’m glad we found you, Mojave, and I’m just as glad you found us. You were a joy in our lives, a protector of ourselves, and a great friend to your adopted little brother. We love you and will always remember you.
