In Praise of Moses

Celebrating the best boy there ever was.

Where to even begin with a dog like Moses.

I suppose the beginning.

Moses Cuyahoga Cleaveland Baur came into our lives on a February Leap Day in Cleveland. Melanie was anxiously staring out the window, waiting for the van from the rescue to come drop him off.

I was admittedly hesitant. I was the one who loved dogs, but didn’t necessarily want one. We agreed early on that it wouldn’t be fair to get a dog. We were traveling too much. But then once we settled in Cleveland after living in Costa Rica, Melanie put her foot down. It was specifically after I went to Japan for two weeks.

I remember the conversation like it was just yesterday. She was sitting on the couch with a laptop, saying it was great that I had a good time in Japan.

But…

“We’re getting a dog.”

It wasn’t a question. She was merely informing me.

“If you’re going to be gone for two weeks at a time for work, which is fine, then I want a dog to keep me company.”

I didn’t try to fight it. Instead, I became an active participant. In fact, and this is always my favorite part of the origin story, I was the one who first spotted Moses. Melanie was scrolling through pups on a rescue website.

“What about that one?” I asked, pointing to our future prince. Melanie setup the trial.

As soon as he jumped out of the rescue agency’s truck, he dropped a big ole turd on the sidewalk. We took him for a short walk, brought him into our apartment, and that was that. He was ours and we were his. So much so, I barely put up a fight when he jumped on our to sleep with us.

“Oh, just for his first night!” Melanie pleaded. I relented, begrudgingly.

Reader, you’ll hardly be surprised when I share that not only did he never leave the bed again, but I was the one he’d curl up next to the most. (He stayed by Melanie’s side by day, between us in the evening, and me at night.)

When we first moved to Germany, he helped Melanie get out of the house, go for walks, and meet people. He taught me patience, a necessity on any walk or hike with Mo — for he needed to give everything a sniff.

For everything he gave us, he quickly earned another name during those early German years –– Angebot or ‘deal’ as in a bargain. So he became Moses Cuyahoga Angebot Cleaveland Baur, because considering the small fee we paid to adopt him, his very presence in our lives was an incredible deal.

More than anything, he was like us. He loved to eat (sneaking potato chips from his Yiayia, ice cream from his grandma, pizza from Maks), long walks in the woods, and snuggling. God, did that dog love to snuggle. He always, always had to be in between us. I can’t tell you how many mornings I’d wake up with his snoot up against mine.

He really was the goofiest, most loving dog there ever was. He was the best. Our sweet boy.

To say they we are emotionally rocked without him in our lives would be an understatement. The pain is only a testament to our love for our little man.

The greatest cure for our sadness has been to look at pictures and videos of him, the amount of which we have could fill the Smithsonian. After traveling to eight counties (including across western Europe by train to Spain) and dropping in on so many lives, we know he was a special guy to more people than we can imagine. We put together this little carousel of some of our favorite moments to remember him by.

Shortly after posting, his original foster mom reached out to us. She shared her condolences and sent a photo of him before he came into our lives.

I could see that she had written to us before, back in March of 2016 shortly aftere we adopted him. I know I read it at the time, but I completely forgot about it until re-reading it last night.

In the message from 2016, she thanks us for adopting Moses (originally Damper Doodles).

“He was my buddy back at the Cleveland APL - I fell in love the first time he came to us because he was such a funny little jerk, and he fell in love back.”

She shared that he was a hard sell for adoption because he was so nervous around men and reactive towards other dogs. (Fun story, my sister-in-law served as a reference in our adoption and told the resuce that I’m not very manly to help convince them he would be safe with us.)

Someone did adopt him before us, but he got dumped at the city kennel on Chistmas Eve a few months later. The APL staff recognized him and brought him back, but this time with an ultimatum: either find him a home or he'd be euthanized because he didn't like people very much and would fight with other dogs.

But she fought for him –– and thank God she did. She said at the time that she was, "hoping someone would recognize the loveable (but scared) little guy that we all adored. So thank you guys for being that someone.”

To be that “someone” was and will remain the honor of a lifetime.

Thank you for being a part of our lives, MoMo, and allowing us into yours. We’ll miss you. ❤️