The Eulogy
Sometimes it's difficult to know if you made the right choice. Letting my friend, my dog go and knowing it was for the best may have been blurred by my own selfish needs. I didn't want to see her suffer any longer and at the same time, I did not want to feel the great sadness of that loss. I knew no matter how much it hurt for me, I understood that it was because I had loved this animal unconditionally.
The best thing about Mocha was no matter how much of a jerk I sometimes was to her, she might have cowered, but she was still my friend. She made some silly decisions, and I was only to forgive after looking into those puppy eyes. Mocha certainly had some troubled times; the Thanksgiving disaster of 94', the numerous escapes from the backyard to the neighboring lake, and the little urinary problem that lasted several years in her prime. (She was a tad bashful when meeting new people.) Nonetheless, these moments did not anger me. They only made me smile.
Mocha's love in turn was also unconditional. I"ve done some pretty mean things, including dressing her up in ridiculous outfits, letting her slide down the stairs in a sled, and yelling "squirrel" only to watch her react. I was a liar, yet she didn't give two shits. All she wanted was a hug and a cookie.
If they say all dogs go to heaven, I'd imagine Mocha heaven would be full of bunny rabbits and squirrels to chase, an accessable table to eat all the "human" food possible, and a nice king size bed with a down comforter to sleep on. Her family may not be there to join her, especially her beloved Daddy, but there will always be someone to pick up her poop and she can lay in the shade and watch.
Thanks for the slobbery love, Mocha.
Sometimes it's difficult to know if you made the right choice. Letting my friend, my dog go and knowing it was for the best may have been blurred by my own selfish needs. I didn't want to see her suffer any longer and at the same time, I did not want to feel the great sadness of that loss. I knew no matter how much it hurt for me, I understood that it was because I had loved this animal unconditionally.
The best thing about Mocha was no matter how much of a jerk I sometimes was to her, she might have cowered, but she was still my friend. She made some silly decisions, and I was only to forgive after looking into those puppy eyes. Mocha certainly had some troubled times; the Thanksgiving disaster of 94', the numerous escapes from the backyard to the neighboring lake, and the little urinary problem that lasted several years in her prime. (She was a tad bashful when meeting new people.) Nonetheless, these moments did not anger me. They only made me smile.
Mocha's love in turn was also unconditional. I"ve done some pretty mean things, including dressing her up in ridiculous outfits, letting her slide down the stairs in a sled, and yelling "squirrel" only to watch her react. I was a liar, yet she didn't give two shits. All she wanted was a hug and a cookie.
If they say all dogs go to heaven, I'd imagine Mocha heaven would be full of bunny rabbits and squirrels to chase, an accessable table to eat all the "human" food possible, and a nice king size bed with a down comforter to sleep on. Her family may not be there to join her, especially her beloved Daddy, but there will always be someone to pick up her poop and she can lay in the shade and watch.
Thanks for the slobbery love, Mocha.