|
 |
"Hurry up and take the picture so that I can eat this l'il wire down here..." |
|
 |
"How could you accuse a cutie like me of eating that CD player?" |
|
 |
"I'm only 9 weeks old. How am I supposed to know that was a chair and not a chewtoy. What's a 'chair', anyway?" |
|
 |
"I got the face. You got the cookie?" |
|
 |
"Ah...the great outdoors. What's to chew on around here?" |
|
 |
"I think that I shall never chew...
a branch so lovely as a yew..." |
|
 |
"Deforestation? Is that a stop on the Amtrak line?" |
|
 |
"OK. So I grew a little. But I'm still only ten months old..."
{Margot, at the time this picture was taken, was 5 feet 4 inches tall. Mo was just under 100 pounds and had been gaining about 15 pounds a month.) |
|
 |
"Can't have too much love. I'm totally addicted..." |
|
 |
"This is not decadent. We're just exercising our rights to be lazy slugs." |
|
 |
"Trick or Treat! (I wonder if anyone will recognize me...?)" |
|
 |
"Mmmmmm. This is my favorite spot. I can hear everyone in the house from here." |
|
 |
"...And none shall pass without paying the toll (a few snuggles behind the ears, please)." |
|
 |
"Gotta do my job as guardian of this house. It's in my contract." |
|
 |
"I like hiking. You never know when you may find one of those moo-things." |
|
 |
"Hey! I found one! Now why won't she wrestle with me?" |
|
 |
"I am Mo. I like you. I don't care who you are, either." |
|
 |
A Note to Our Friends and Mo-fans, With Profound Sadness:
On November 4, 2008, dear Mo passed away, in his own house and near his favorite spot, after a five-month bout with cancer. Some months prior, our friend and neighbor, a very skilled artist, completed a pastel she had done of Mo, which you see here. It speaks for itself of our beautiful family member and how others saw him. Goodbye dear Mo. |
