My Momo


I named him Moses,

Though most of the time called him Momo.

My baby, Momo, stood three foot at the shoulder,

One blue eye and one brown.

With a black and white muzzle

And large irregular black and grey spots

Splashed over his white body,

People said he looked like a miniature cow.


A frisky pup,

I carried him curled up on my shoulder,

Though soon his enormous size was too much to bare.

Each day he grew bigger and stronger.

Yet no matter how large he grew

Momo was always my baby.


Unstoppable, with power to spare,

Momo pulled me down the street,

Following his nose,

In his own little world,

Smelling anything that struck his fancy.


For eleven years he was my shadow,

Following me everywhere,

Protecting me and my family,

Gently and lovingly,

With a delightful disposition and dignified air everyone admired.


Although when a threat arose

Momo stood his ground and showed his three inch incisors,

Ready, willing and able to tear apart anyone who 

Meant to do us harm.


Those middle years were unforgettable,

Filled with precious memories, eternal moments of unadulterated bliss,

Now a source of unequal solace when in my mind’s eye

wistfully relive the crazy antics of my dancing dog,

My oversized clown that pushed himself against me to get affection.


Admitedly, he pushed his way into a special place in my heart,

Where joy and sorrow walk hand in hand;

I’m thankful he showered me with love and devotion,

Though undeniably sad it had to end so soon.


Oh no,  … the tears return with a vengeance –

I remember the end;

Unable to walk, he stared at me with forgiving eyes;

He knew the end had come.


My heart ached,

For the time had come to let go.

Racked with pain and sorrow,

I struggled for the courage to put him out of his misery.

Again and again, I told myself this was the day

For me to let go.


Finally, that day came and I tearfully peered into his eyes,

Hugged his neck and muttered,

Oh, my faithful friend today it has to end.


Together, my baby and I hobbled to my truck,

Where I picked up his fragile bony frame and helped my

Once Great Dane onto the back seat.


How deep, how long, how wide is my love for 

My beloved friend and ardent protector.

It feels like I’m being hit by a heady wind

Every time I think of how you licked my neck,

Laughing as you tickled me to tears.

So much so, I have to hold myself steady in order not to fall.

I miss you to tears;

I’ll miss you till the end of time.



All Rights Reserved, Bill Bitetti July 1, 2014.