The Legacy of Mr. Mojo Baggins

Yesterday Mojo was hit by a truck. I was standing at the end of the driveway waiting for the truck to drive by so I could cross the street, rescue, and then spank him. I guess the little guy couldn't wait, cause he ran back to me at just the wrong time. The truck didn't stop, didn't slow, even though I know they felt it, and heard me screaming.

I ran to him, and even before I got there I knew it was bad. When I reached for him, he bit me pretty hard. I didn't mind, though. I hope that means he was already in shock and didn't know any pain. I picked him up and ran... flew, I think, down the driveway to the house. I got as hysterical as you can imagine, called my big sister & the vet, but before Suzie could even get to the house, he was gone.

I couldn't handle it, so I called Angie, and she practically hung up on me in her haste to get to my house. Leslie called, and I think I blathered something and suddenly Suzie was there, then Angie, Sheree & Leslie were all there. Everything happened really fast after that. Suzie took care of Mojo's eternal resting place while I ... don't really remember what I did. We laid him to rest with a piece of his favorite blanket, the first toy I ever bought him, a toy Lyla gave to him, and the very first thing of mine he chewed so badly I couldn't use it anymore - my hairbrush. He really liked that hairbrush, y'all.

I wish I could describe how awesome it was to have so many people there to take care of me. I honestly don't know what I would've done without them. I can't imagine what it's like if you don't have friends like mine, and it chokes me with gratitude that I am so very blessed. I didn't want to tell the story again & again, so Leslie & Angie took care of that for me. I got visits, calls, texts, and emails. I'm still getting them. I even got flowers and a bunch of chocolate. I've been eating the hell out of that chocolate, too. You best believe.

I started to go back to this old way of thinking where God was mad at me. But, I don't live there anymore, and I don't wanna go back to that place. Sometimes, shit just happens. I'm trying to think of it like this: If Mojo was only slotted to live for so long, then I'm glad that God chose me as the one who got to take care of him while he was here. He changed me forever.

Because of Mojo, I got out in the fresh air and sunshine more often, and I learned it was not a bad thing. I took walks in my neighborhood and got to know so many people & pets. I became more connected to where I live because of him. Mojo was a bridge between my father and I so we could learn to talk again. I don't think we've been this close since I was a little girl. Mojo made people smile, and he made me smile when I didn't want to, and he helped me to stop taking myself so seriously sometimes. He helped me to learn to be more compassionate and patient. He helped me stop to think about what life must look like through a different pair of eyes. He made me laugh. He made my heart grow three sizes and then I returned all the gifts to Whoville and I even carved the roast beast.

I figure, in less than 6 months, he did a lot more than some people do their whole lives. I will not forget him. The bruises on my hand where he bit me are a reminder of the pain I feel. I'm almost glad for them, in a way. Sometimes I press down on them to feel the soreness, I suppose as a reminder that he's still with me in some way. I know, that like the bruises, this horrible aching in my heart will subside in time. Eventually, I'll be left with what he gave me while he was here - more love than my heart could hold.

I miss you, buddy. I miss the way your silky ears flew back when you ran fast. I miss your ridiculous wide paws on that short stubby build. I miss your wagging tail. I miss the sound of your padding feet behind me wherever I went. I miss your brown eyes looking at me sideways in that adorable hound dog way you had. I miss the way you buried your nose into my neck. I miss your contented puppy sigh when you curled up against me. I miss the way you sat on my shoulder like a pirate's monkey. I miss the way you pretended to be so badass no matter what you were faced with (even if it was that one episode of Dexter, and in your defense.. it was totally scary!)

I just miss you, little fella. I hope, wherever you are, that you have plenty of room to run.