11/13/2025
You were puppy number eight of nine. The first name I ever gave you was “Noco” for “No Collar”, because I thought you were the last puppy and I didn’t put a collar on you.
You were soft eyed from the day you opened them and that never faded. Not even after the person who was supposed to love and cherish you almost starved you to death. You came back to me with a broken down body but a whole heart full of love and forgiveness.
Despite being starved you never resource guarded. You weren’t very food driven at all. But you adored fizbee and hugs. Despite being crated almost 24/7, you didn’t end up a dirty dog, and you had only a mild compulsion to intermittently spin when walked. The only other time it showed up was on your outrun for sheep.
You got new names, both registered and call, because you deserved a fresh start. Marcato’s Fire Inside, because you had one burning in you so brightly. “Moto” to reference how motivated you were to do anything for anybody who asked. All you wanted was to be loved.
You weren’t supposed to be a show dog, but there were already so many “weren’t supposed to be” things about you, what was one more?
Anya took you to the big Louisville cluster when you had put on enough weight and you took a surprise major reserve out of 6-9 under Paula Nykiel. I remember her texting me saying I’d never believe what you’d just done.
When you were finally healthy enough to place, Anya directed me to Rich, who had been searching for a new family pet since his last dog from her had passed away. I was lucky enough that he agreed to let me continue showing you.
We went down to Georgia to compete in my first Fut/Mat with animals I bred and Jeffrey Pyle piloted you to a tremendous class win. You almost won the whole thing, despite the blistering heat and your relative inexperience.
You and your sister became my first ever Westmintster competitors, and articles were written about you because of your incredible comeback story. Your screaming is immortalized on video due to Creeper being in standing season (her first one😑) at the time.
You became the first puppy from my first litter to finish. A dream I’d wanted to fulfill for decades.
While you did finish your grand championship, the show ring wasn’t where your heart was. It was where every good Shepherd’s heart is. In work. Your greatest joy and healing was found on sheep. Nothing gave me greater pride than guiding you around a course.
My directions frequently hindered you, but you obeyed. You tried your best to cover for my mistakes. You worked quietly and you worked hard. You were diligent, dedicated, and kept stock calm.
Qualifying with you on Started A course at Purina Farms wasn’t something I thought we would achieve. Those sheep are notoriously tough for inexperienced dogs and handlers. I was so nauseated I almost threw up on the field. But you worked that stock like *my* life depended on it, and we came away not only with a Q, but a placement.
You were the first animal I titled in Started. I wish we could have done more, but I had already asked so much of your family. I let you retire and go home.
You were never a dog who was meant to stay with me. You needed your own dedicated people, and your own love. But there was not a single day, Momo, that I wasn’t thinking of you, missing you, or loving you. There is a paw print of yours embedded in my heart, because that’s where you’ve always lived.
Moto Moto, Momo, Quail Eggs, you are, and remain, one of the most profound treasures I’ve ever had in my life.
Find your sister and some sheep. Say hi to your Mama and Mousedog for me.
Keep your fire burning.
DAE GCH Marcato’s Fire Inside HT PT HSAs TC “Moto”
06/22/14-11/12/25
