01/05/2026
Our mokoboy. We remember him not just as a dog, but as part of our family, our daily rhythm, and our lives for the past 14 years.
Moko wasn’t just any dog. He had a presence about him.
A bark so loud and intense it could’ve scared off anything — and probably did.
If that buggy even so much as started up, that was it… he was all in, letting the whole world know he was there.
That was Moko — bold, full of life, and completely himself.
But behind that tough exterior, Moko had the gentlest heart.
He had this way of knowing things — like when we were sad. He would just sit at your feet and lie with his head on them.
When our girl dogs had pups, he would always act like the caregiver, You could almost see it in his face, like “oh no… here they come,” and instead of running off, he’d just lie there and let them climb all over him. Patient, calm, and so tolerant. That was his quiet kind of love.
And every afternoon, like clockwork, he’d be there at the kennels — waiting to greet his hunting dog mates, Even though he was just our house dog. Loyal to his routine, loyal to his crew. He showed up for them every single day.
For 14 years, he gave us loyalty, protection, companionship, and so many small, everyday moments that we didn’t realise would one day become the ones we miss the most.
He was there through it all — growing with us, watching over us, being part of our story.
And now, even though he’s gone, his presence doesn’t just disappear. It lives on in those memories — in the routines, in the laughter, and in the stories we’ll keep telling about him.
Moko wasn’t just a dog.
He was family.
And he will be deeply missed, always remembered, and forever loved.
Forever missed from your pack
🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎
7 hearts from your 7 mates you left behind
Love u old boy
