October 27, 2006

15:27—Mojo died about an hour and a half ago. He was one of the three family dogs at the Iguana. He was 9 years old and lived a pretty happy dog life, and was even lucky to have made it this far considering he nearly died of poisoning four years ago. There wasn’t much warning; apparently he wasn’t looking so hot an hour or so earlier, and then he just died in Deedle’s arms up at the bar, which was actually quite sweet. Deedle was beside herself. She’s had Luna, his mom, since she was a pup and was there when Mojo was born. Mojo was always her favourite. Rich, the manager, tearfully carried him back to the office until Dave got home. Then they brought him up to the house and buried him in the front yard, at which point their four year old son Theo joined them. Trying to explain the finality of death for the first time to your four-year-old kid is probably the last thing you want to be doing while burying your favourite dog that you’ve had for longer than the kid. It’s such a cliché family-life-lesson moment it’s almost funny (I didn’t laugh out loud, of course, but I hope they’ll eventually see the humour in it… I’m sure there’s a new Iguana song in there for Dave somewhere). Poor Mojo. Luna and Nanook, his brother, are pretty sad, too.