Mosley: A Mini Biography

Happiness

Mosley grew up to be a very athletic dog. He would join Papa during bikes, boxing, jogging, and any other things a dog can do to stay fit. I've always thought that if he turned out to be an actual boy, he would form muscles and abs at three years old. It's a hilarious thought.

At night, he liked to stay up and join us as we eat our midnight snack. He loved eating so much as much as he loved fitness. It was almost always impossible to put him on a real diet because he couldn't really care less about his weight. All Mosley thought about was: if food made him happy, he wasn't going to restrict himself from it. For the past eleven years, that's exactly what happened.

It was like a rollercoaster of trying to find balance between fitness and eating his favorites. Oftentimes, when he hears us tearing a bag of chips from the living room, his soft paws would start clicking the floor. Next thing we know, he's right beside our legs---waiting to be fed, too.

Before we leave for spontaneous road trips (you know, those instances when we prepare our bags and store all food in the pick-up truck), his tail would wag for a long time. He'd whimper repeatedly because he knew we would go someplace else. He wanted to join as well.

We never left him, for sure. He was always the little passenger excitedly sitting in the back of the car. Then whimpers in joy again when we arrived at our destination.

For years, it was like that. Mosley would greet us every day when we get home---always ready to give us his brightest smiles. Soon, I realized over the years how he never failed to complete our day with his affectionate presence. He never said a word in his life. But I understood his feelings and thoughts from the way his eyes looked. It's like a secret language.

It's like magic.