I realized the other day that Mocha died six years and six weeks after the day I got her.  She died on Feb 12, 2012 or 12-02-2012  Six is half of 12.  There’s something in those numbers, I just know it.

I went sorting through my photos of her.  Here are my favourites.  I know a ton of the readers here are psycic, telepathic and animal communicators, so if anyone gets a message from her for me, please let me know.

Here she is on the day I got her, stress-shedding all over the back of that rental car.  She was a parasite-ridden, untrained, stressed-out mess.  She taught me a lot about dog training and animal health.

Here she is in the park in the city, fetching the red ball.  This is the ball she chased into heaven.

I

Here she is roaring through the ravine in the city.  This is how she’ll look right now, probably.

This is the day we brought Bonus into our family.  Mocha had become my “bomb-proof” dog by this time, a real testament to the resiliency of life.  Bonus, at this time, had no manners and Mocha showed him the ropes.  It is so much easier to train a new dog with the help of an experienced dog in the family.

Mocha’s cattle dog tendency to referree any excessive silliness at the dog park.

Mocha on the beach, shortly after we moved out here.  She learned how much fun it is to dig up the beach sand.

This past Christmas.  This is my most recent photo of her.  (Bonus obviously doesn’t like having to sit still wearing a bow.)