Daedalian Adventures

The road ahead is rarely straight…

By Lynelle Barrett

Good MoJo

We brought MoJo home with us when we were still young and full of hope. He was supposed to be the first step in building a family. We came home from the dog breeder’s farm and set our little bundle of joy in the middle of the living room carpet. Then we stared at him, uncertain what to do next. “ Well…if we don’t kill the puppy, maybe we can try having kids,” we said.

Our tiny puppy grew and grew, but no children came. The years passed. Life moved on without children. We accepted this and got another puppy. Then slowly, painfully, everything started to fall apart. And I think the dogs knew. The new puppy would not leave my side. Every time I walked from room to room, Kallie followed me. I think she knew I would leave before I did. My guilt for abandoning her is a deep, deep well.

We got divorced and I moved to Europe. Living in Europe was a dream I had before thoughts of marriage and children. I could fulfill this dream. I left my beloved dogs with my ex-husband. I knew they would be cared for and loved. I also knew that he needed them. As painful as it was, it was the right thing to do.

But MoJo was getting old. The last time I visited him in Kentucky, I had a sad feeling that it was the last time I would see him. Silently, I said good-bye. But I hoped it wouldn’t really be true.

I knew even before I opened the email titled “Sad News – Loss of a Companion”.

“I have very sad news. MoJo has passed away on this morning, Monday Oct. 9, 2006. Kallie and I were with him. I assured him that 'he is a good boy'.  He then expired quietly and with regal dignity.”

The next morning, in my Dutch language class, we had to describe our families. So, in imperfect Dutch, I told the class about MoJo’s death. Valeria, the girl from Khazikstan, asked me if I cried. The word for cry in Dutch is huilen, which is pronounced like howlin’. Ja, ik gehuild…Yes, I howled.

My grief was not just because of MoJo’s death, but also what he represented. He was part of my life when I dreamed of children and grandchildren, of growing old with my husband beside me, of living happily ever after. Now those dreams are gone and so is MoJo. Life continues…the same but very, very different.

My ex-husband moved to Connecticut a few months ago for a new job. I thought it would be nice for the dogs to enjoy New England winters. But MoJo didn’t get to run through the autumn leaves or to have even one romp along snow covered mountain trails. MoJo’s body has been cremated and now my ex-husband has asked me what I think he should do with the ashes. I know what I would do them if we still lived in Kentucky. MoJo loved to run on the trails and splash in the creek behind Highland Cemetery in Fort Wright. I know he would be happy there. Maybe if you are walking there with your dog, you can think of him and help lead him home.

Lynelle Barrett is residing in The Netherlands with two cats. Cats are cuddly and don’t mind so much if you travel a lot, but it’s just not the same as the love of a dog. Check out photos and notes of her adventures on her website at: http://spaces.msn.com/lynelleinholland