A dog passes through our lives

  • In his Texas youth.
  • Apple picking in the Hill Country.
  • Mojado and his pet tongue.
  • Enjoying the snow from a lofty perch.
  • Patience with the grex.
  • Resting in the morning of the 27th, on the north side of the house.


On Saturday, May 27, at the start of Memorial Day weekend, our good and sweet dog, Mojado, passed on from this life.  He came to us in 2004 when he was 10 months old, and saw us through multiple moves, changes in career paths, and two babies.  Through it all, he kept a careful lookout over us.  A shepherd to his core, he took it on himself to keep us all safe, and he never felt better than when he could be in between everyone, watching the action and keeping us all out of trouble.  None of us were ever eaten by wolves — a testament to his constant vigilance.

He loved to go for hikes, chase deer, and harass anyone delivering packages to the house.  Thunder and fireworks worried him; nothing scared him.  He once attacked a Newfoundland at a dog park, and in his riotous youth he broke a window trying to get at the mailman.  Mojado was smart and loyal, and despite never seeming to know where his feet were when he was walking on you in bed, he always managed to nonchalantly flop down with half a paw over any line you told him to stay behind.

Full of frisk and heart, he was a sensitive dog with an insensitive name.  We miss him greatly.  But he lived well, and he watched his flock faithfully until the end.  His work is done, and his dog gods are proud of him.

Two dogs in a tree on Schreiner’s campus.

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