Momo, Part I - by Andrew Knapp
I have a personal mountain to climb, and I could think of no better company to bring along than you. There's a courage that comes from this creative endeavor that is a simple little newsletter about dogs but not about dogs. I'm on a journey of exploring Momo's life as I knew it, and hopefully as we've all known it. As an exercise for my new illustrated children’s book about pet loss, Find Momo Everywhere, recounting Momo's beautiful life – from beginning to beyond its end – is that mountain.
To talk about any life, I’d best start at the beginning. Frankly, I’m always a little embarrassed when someone asks me how I met Momo. It wasn’t on the side of a dirt road, or a dog heroically rescued from turmoil. The truth is, I found Momo on Craigslist. I simply listened to a voice inside of me that said: it’s time. Having grown up with dogs, I felt that I could surely benefit from the spirit of a dog guiding me over the next decade and a half of my life. I was in my mid twenties, after all, and was (cue Don't Stop Believing) just a small town boy. Most importantly I had just purchased my grandparent's old house for as much as a sprinter van costs today, and this house had the one ingredient I thought I needed to get a dog: a yard.
Bringing a dog into your life is an invitation to chaos. You can try and imagine what your life will be like with a dog, but chances are you’ll be wrong. To invite something so chaotic into their life, one must truly have either an openness to the unknown, or be completely naive. Luckily, I was the latter.
Having stumbled upon a rich underground creative scene in my little city of Sudbury, I was throwing art parties with Harriet, still one of the most magnetic creatives I’ve met. Side note: she would eventually somehow get me to pose shirtless for her. I’m not sure if those photos exist on her Flickr or not, but you’d definitely find some photos of me and Momo, and a thousand more brilliant works. She was a friend at the centre of a creative scene that certainly stretched its tentacles into just about every aspect of my life. Perhaps a little foreshadowing to how bringing a dog into my life could also stretch my creative muscles.
Life presents its own chaos, doesn’t it? Endless obstacles stumble into our path, and we have to decide whether to shake our fists at them in rejection, to hop gallantly over them, or to dance with them for a minute. The house, the creative friends, the love for dogs, it was a lot like pushing a few random keys on a keyboard and hoping they sounded good together. Life's chaos might have been a warm up for the chaos that was coming.
So, I googled “border collie puppies ontario” and somehow came across a litter in Orillia which was half-a-day drive South. In Canada, this is not far.
Your own pup’s story might have begun with a rescue organization’s website, or a row of kennels at an SPCA or a humane society, or a dirt road in South America, or a backyard litter like Momo’s. No matter, there’s something so powerful about choosing a dog, or having a dog choose you. Eight puppies who look nearly identical squirmed in the summer grass and I was somehow expected to choose just one. I tried not to think too hard about it, each dog had the potential to impact my life in unimaginable ways. I asked for a sign, as we do in situations like these. I like to think that at this point, I didn’t notice Momo yet because he was hiding somewhere in the yard.
A few decades prior, my parents brought us to pick our family dog from a litter, we selected TJ because he looked like the plush toy I’d brought with me. The brown and white plush dog matched the outcast of the litter – the only brown and white border collie. There’s so much excitement and mystery in bringing a dog into your family. Bringing a dog into your life is a decision to care.
Fast forward to my own dilemma, on that sunny summer evening, with eight border collie puppies under the supervision of their parents Cedar and Jackson. I had the impossible task of choosing just one. I didn’t have a plush toy that matched any of these. But just like that, a furry little missing piece of information presented itself: he plopped over, showed me his belly, and cuddled my feet. This one, he decided, would be Momo.
And so our story began.
Most new adventures, as far as I can see, require an approach of openness, of softness. Without it, the unexpected can be a lot more difficult. Momo was a resilient dog, and I think part of that was due to the nomadic lifestyle we were afforded. He approached the world with softness, and I could see that in his demeanor.
A lot of questions bubble up when you decide to make your family a little bit bigger and furrier. A lot of questions arise with the approach of any new adventure, really. A surrender to uncertainty is the strongest path forward, a way to accept the truth: many of life's questions don’t have an answer at all. We're just here to witness, to watch our lives unfold.
With love,
Andrew, Yaya, and Boo
Pre-order my new book. Find Momo Everywhere is a whole-hearted tribute to Momo. A children’s book about dogs, love, loss, and nature. Written, photographed, and illustrated by yours truly.
This newsletter was originally published in September, 2022.
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