It is with a heavy heart that we report a few days ago our beloved Mongo passed away in San Diego, California.
He died of Thrombocytopenia, most likely caused by an undetected case of Ehrlichiosis. Mongo had survived this tick-borne disease earlier in the year, along with being poisoned, and countless street fights. He was one tough cookie. But, sadly, I think this last bout of sickness was just too much for his little body. It happened so fast, so unexpectedly. It’s so hard to accept, but maybe it was just Mongo’s time to go.
We found out yesterday, and I’ve been crying for nearly twenty-four hours between then and now. I am deeply saddened by this loss. It’s hard for me to find the right words at this point to express my love and grief. I’m too overwhelmed to think straight.
I’ve been struggling with his death for many reasons, but I realize it’s mostly because I tried so hard to make sure that he would live a long life. We all did. I wanted that so badly for him, but from the day I met that rascally boy, he seemed hellbent on dying young. He chased cats into oncoming traffic, brawled with giant German Shepherds (sometimes two at a time), stayed out all night at the local bars, and was routinely sighted having illicit public affairs in broad daylight. Mongo was the King of Huanchaco, and he sure as shit lived like it. In response to my constant fretting for his safety, Tree once said, “Honey, Mongo came into this life for a good time…not a long time.” And, he was right. I realize that it was my plan to make Mongo live to be a hundred in doggy years, not his. Despite my failure to achieve my goal, I find solace in knowing that Mongo accomplished his. He lived life to the fullest, loved unabashedly, and brought a smile to even the grumpiest of faces. He had a charm like no other, and he could cuddle like nobody’s business.
I love you Mongo. You will be missed beyond measure.
My heart goes out to everyone who was ever touched by Mongo, especially to Ursula in Huanchaco, and Matt and Malia in San Diego. Someday we will have a toast together to celebrate his life. xoxo.
Words from Malia, Mongo’s Mama in San Diego:
Before we got Mongo, Matt and I laid out a couple of rules: No processed human food, and he was not allowed on the couch or our bed. We were going to be good, disciplined doggy parents. Then one morning Matt left for work and Mongo hopped in bed right next to me. He just nuzzled into the open spot like it had been his forever. It was so cute that I broke the rule and just hugged him and went back to sleep. I could feel his tail just wag, making a small noise as it hit against the comforter. I came home every day during lunch to spend some time with him. The first day I found him laying on the couch, he lowered his head and wagged his tail. He knew but he didn’t move. And I didn’t yell because there was that tail again. Just wagging away. And I felt so happy that he was happy and I didn’t want that to stop. Mongo gave to us that great joy. Even in death, he wagged that tail. Our friends who cared for him while we were gone told us that as they swooped him up to take him to the vet, he laid there, barely moving his head. But that tail, it wagged away as soon as he saw them coming for him. He reminded us every day what passion for life looked like and how unconditional love manifests itself when we finally let go of ego and expectations. He gave us that individually. But he also gave Matt and me something as a couple. Matt and I found new parts of ourselves to share with each other now that Mongo had uncovered this deeper part of our hearts and souls. It was in the middle of our honeymoon when we found out he passed away. We were left to grieve with only each other on a remote island in the South Pacific. But because I saw how Matt had taken care of Mongo these past few months, I knew that he would take care of me in just the same, loving, compassionate way. Now that we are home, we get to grieve with the world. Because Mongo wasn’t ours. He was part of us all, all of you. When we understand that we are no more than energy operating at a high frequency, we understand that love is not separate from that and you are not separate from me. Instead of feeling like Mongo has left us, I feel that he has just grown deeper into us. He was not separate from us or from you. He’s just added to our love pool. We can take each day now with that more expansive part of ourselves and be kinder to strangers, be compassionate in this world, and have a shitload of fun doing it. That’s how Mongo did it and I want to keep that spirit in my life and in this world.
Palabras de Ursula, Mango’s mama en Huanchaco: