Moto

2010 - 2026

Moto, beloved poof and ferocious beast, was born on August 21, 2010 in Bloomington, IN, and passed away on August 1, 2026, in Palo Alto, CA.

Moto and I came into each other’s lives on October 31, 2010. I met him during a lower point in life, but he immediately made my life brighter and filled it with purpose. He helped me through so many challenges, losses, and achievements, including becoming a psychologist, such that his legacy will persist through any child or family I am able to help in the future.

Moto was always intelligent, curious, strong-willed, and protective over those he loved. When we first tried to take him for walks, he would refuse to allow his leash to be put on, squiggling his head quickly out of the way at the last second. He hated being on his leash, but eventually learned that he was still in charge even when it was on - leading the way and walking faster than even my fastest walking pace. Moto was an athletic little guy who could run 7+ miles at one point, though at the expense of my knees when he would pull to go faster or stop abruptly (though I obviously should have anticipated his movements if I wanted to remain uninjured).

Moto’s intelligence was unmatched. He could figure out the most complicated puzzle toys within minutes to hours, but most impressively, he could also figure out how to get whatever he wanted from me. My favorite trick of his was “human,” when he would stand on his two back legs and walk around like a person (usually when he when he wanted whatever I was eating). Keeping his mind active and entertained was always a challenge, and I loved watching him solve puzzles and problems.

Moto was a very dignified fellow. He had a refined palette and loved chickpeas, mini saltines, apples, and plain greek yogurt. He generally hated wearing clothes until his godmother purchased him a tuxedo for his 4th birthday. He knew he looked dapper and it was the only outfit he would never resist wearing or try to take off.

During covid, Moto and I were isolated across the country from family, but what could have been a lonely period of life still felt full and happy with Moto. He learned to play fetch, and I loved watching him race back and forth across the longest section of the apartment. We enjoyed spending all our time together, our schedule still structured with his daily walks and sitting side by side on the couch, yet still purposeful as he learned new tricks. Moto somehow knew whenever I was in a telehealth session and would rarely make a peep - like he was taking care of my patients, too - despite his typical vocal nature. He brought smiles to many of my patients’ faces, who regularly asked to see him and remotely give him treats.

Some people have soulmates; I have a soul dog, and my soul is now untethered without him. My only small comfort is knowing that ‘untethered’ is how moto preferred to be, though I feel lost without him. I pray that all dogs go to heaven, and that he is running, untethered and out of pain, playing with Scooter, JJ, and Rio, and that someday I can see him again. I hope he knows how much he was loved, even during the times when we were physically apart, and that I will continue to love him forever.