Goodbye Mochi Elliott

This post is dedicated to Mochi Elliott, beloved family member who passed away at 2:52am Tuesday 19th February, 2019.

Dearest Mochi,

It's mummy here. And for once, I am lost for words. Two years ago, you were the most gentle soul to come into our lives. You were my first dog so I asked your daddy all sorts of questions about you. "Can Mochi defend herself? Can she fight if another dog or a person attacks her?"

I had heard dogs were strong but he shook his head. "She couldn't hurt a fly," he said. Then from that day onwards I vowed to protect you. Little did I know that you have made the same vow to protect me. Whenever anyone or another dog approached me that you didn't like, you warned me. You were the tiniest, fluffiest most adorable guard dog in the world. I slumbered better every night because you slept beside me.

I am still confused about what happened on Monday night. One minute you were lying on your blanket next to me in bed. I called your daddy over because I saw that you wasn't able to get comfortable and wouldn't rest easy which was unusual because you always sleep so soundly. Something just didn't feel right.

Then you started panting heavily and suddenly your legs wouldn't hold you up. You still looked at me with the calm, trusting, inquisitive look as you always did but we knew something was very wrong and took you straight to the emergency vet. I thought that you might have paralysis and we would get you wheels like the doggy we saw at Clovelly beach on Sunday. Remember that day?

But you had hemangiosarcoma tumours in your liver and spleen and the doctors wouldn't operate on that. I keep thinking what we could have done, could we have seen this growth? They were just tiny dots in the ultrasound done three months ago. But what if? What if? Why? Why?

Even as your vitals dipped and you should have slipped into a twilight, when we came in you raised your head excited to see us and greet us with that sweet pink nosed face and bright, inquisitive eyes. "But she's ok! Look at her!!" I said to the vets and nurses who gave me a sympathetic smile before looking away.

I still wasn't ready to let you go.

I had silly dreams - of taking you on planes and holidaying around the world with you. You had had 8 years of a rotten life before us and I wanted to give you 8 years of a joyful existence with plenty of Peking Duck and chicken. You taught me so much, especially to never give up. If you fell or stumbled, you just tried again.

Everyone that met you remarked on what an extraordinary dog you were. Calm, observant, patient and just about the sweetest thing under the sun. We were lucky to get just 2 years with you. I wish we had had you your whole life.

Reluctantly, with great big heaving sobs we made the decision to let you go when your breathing was too ragged.

I think you found my singing soothing so I sang, "You are my Sunshine". Did you hear me when I told you how much I loved you? I know you could understand me when I talked to you. You passed in my arms in a matter of seconds.

Even after you passed you looked like you were still there, your black button eyes shining bright. Below is one of my favourite photos of you as I loved your floppy ears and button eyes. To me your face says, "Where will we go on our next adventure mummy?".

Even thought everything in me feels broken I'm still grateful. So grateful to have your gentle little soul in my life. Grateful I wasn’t travelling when this happened and grateful that I got to say goodbye to you and tell you that I loved you so much. I've never seen your daddy cry ever but he hasn't been able to stop.

For now this small apartment is shaking, wracked by the sobs of two people that loved you so much Mochi. The sky is grey, the curtains are drawn and it feels like my heart will never feel whole again. You were the best doggy I could have ever dreamt up and I was so lucky to have met you. I love you Miss Moo.

Mummy

xxx