Morgan Wheatberry Modigliani Sanders-Wahman the First, Momo, Momo B, Monkey Brown, Buttons
I forgot kids might ask me questions about Momo, the dog I dedicated “Don’t Lick the Dog” to. It’s ok – until they start pointing to the photos of my 3 living poodles and ask, “is he dead? What about this one, is she dead?” I did a similar thing to my poor grandfather when my grandmother died. He was sitting in silence and grief in the living room. I asked my mom why he was so sad and she told me not to talk to him about Gramma… dur! Poor Grampa.
My dead poodle’s name is Morgan Wheatberry Modigliani, and he was my and Joe’s first poodle child. A big sassy-pants, high stepping brown standard poodle from Escondido, California. We started calling him Momo, when we got GoGo two years later. Morgan wanted a human baby, but all we could rustle up was another brown puppy. He made do.
Before we got GoGo we traveled the circumference of the US with Momo and our cat, Minus Monk. Momo was The Ambassador of Poodles. Especially with children. He loved children. You know those bomb /drug / cancer-sniffing dogs? He was a child sniffing dog. When we got GoGo from the same breeder (Janice Teller-West for the poodle pedigree curious) and she was even more of a child sniffer-outer. We call GoGo the Nanny and she’ll be 13 July 17th. I have 3 books to write about her someday – soon, I hope.
GoGo, Teller to GoGo, Peanut, Conchita, PeachPie, Peanutbutter-Sandwich-of-a-Girl
But back to Momo. He was our everything. Our sweet potato pie. He was always healthy until one day he wasn’t. He got very sick very fast. He and Joe and GoGo went for a 70 minute run in the woods the day he fell ill. He had idiopathic aplastic anemia… interestingly, while researching his illness I learned many children get this. It was too late for our sweet Buttons though, and he left us after a month.
So now, Momo bounds through the sky, catching falling stars and wagging up wind storms.