The first time I met Mojo, he was living near Chattanooga and going by the name Cujo. He was in the fenced backyard of a woman I knew. A few years earlier, her house had been burglarized and she wanted a dog to help protect the property. She bought Mojo as a puppy and immediately sent him to a trainer to be taught how to be a guard dog. When he got home to her, she couldn’t get him to obey her commands, so she put him in the backyard and left him there for three-and-a-half years.
When I’d visit my friend’s house, Mojo would jump up and put his paws on the top of the cyclone fence, waiting for me to pet him. He was the largest German Shephard I’d ever seen. His skull and paws were massive. Every time I’d see him, I was amazed at his size. Every time he’d see me, he’d get excited because he knew he was going to get some much-needed attention.
When my friend decided to retire from her job and downsize her house, she made the decision to get rid of Mojo. Her plan was to drop him off at the city dog pound. I explained to her that if no one adopted him, he would be euthanized. “Someone will adopt him,” she said. I wasn’t so sure. He was huge, unruly, and an adult male, all strikes against him. When people adopt, they often want puppies, especially females, not a gigantic, undisciplined adult male.
I tried to make her change her decision, but her mind was made up. So, I did the only reasonable thing I could do. I took Mojo home with me.
It took Mojo about ten minutes to transition from being an outdoor dog to an indoor dog. In fact, at first, he didn’t like going outside for fear that he’d once again be left there. And he hated to leave the couch. In those early days with me, the couch was Mojo’s happy place.
Getting him outside was the first of many fights we had. As much as I’d like to say that Mojo was immediately the perfect dog and I was the perfect dog owner, that wasn’t the case. Mojo was independent-minded and undisciplined. And I was headstrong and impatient. I’ve owned several dogs over the years, and each of them before Mojo was relatively well-behaved. Despite his early-life training, Mojo didn’t know how to behave. He had too much energy and he craved attention. He wanted to be petted, and to his mind, humans were only in this world to pay attention to him.
I’m embarrassed to say that I got super angry at him on more than one occasion. I didn’t know how to deal with his bad behavior. I also didn’t know how to deal with his subservient nature. Because of his size, I expected him to be an alpha dog. But he wasn’t. He was very much a follower, and he was scared of his own shadow. When it even threatened to rain, he would get nervous. And thunderstorms scared him to death. Despite being so big, he would often try to hide in the smallest spaces. On more than one occasion, I had to get him unstuck from behind the TV stand or from under the bed.
But in time, we came to an understanding. He began to listen to me and do what I asked, and I learned to accept him for who he was. He began behaving more often and I got angry less often. We became friends, and he was the most loyal, loving friend I’d ever had.
Mojo loved to be with me, no matter what I was doing. If I was going outside, he’d get excited to go outside. When it was time to come in, he’d get just as excited about going into the house with me. He loved car rides, no matter where we were going, and he loved to walk in the woods. When I bought my place in Wisconsin, it was like Heaven to him, exploring the woods and wide-open spaces off-leash. I don’t think I ever saw him as happy as when we were hiking the trails together. He loved it.
Yesterday, Mojo wasn’t feeling well. He couldn’t get comfortable lying down, and he constantly wanted to go outside. Last night, as I was watching TV, he came up to my chair asking to be petted. I showed him some love and told him I wished he felt better. He curled up at my feet and put his head down. I stroked his side with my foot and he looked up at me with his big, dark eyes. Age had dulled those eyes, but they were just as loving as ever. Then he lay his head on the floor, closed his eyes, and died.
Mojo was a month shy of his eleventh birthday. He was the sweetest dog I’ve ever known. He was my best buddy, and I’m going to miss him. Life won’t be the same without Mojo.
My condolences Lou. It is hard to articulate how hard it is to lose your best friend. I am glad you had some great years with Mojo.
Lou – I am so sorry for the loss of your best friend. Mojo was a beautiful boy. May he be at peace.💔
What a great story of your friendship with mojo! Beautiful dog! Sorry for you loss💔