I used to think motherhood only applied to women raising children. I never imagined that one day I would understand pieces of it through a tiny furry soul named Mochi.

The righteous care for the needs of their animals – Proverbs 12:10

I became Christian after adopting Mochi, so I never knew that verse before her. Somehow, now it feels like it was meant to find me after she did. But now, it means something to me. Because loving another living being — truly caring for them — changes you.

There are some commitments in life that do not feel like decisions after a while. They become part of who you are.

Mochi became that for me.

When Mochi first came into my life, there were two of us caring for her. Back then, I think I unintentionally took some of that for granted. I was traveling often, moving constantly, balancing different priorities, and somewhere in my mind there was comfort in knowing someone else was also there helping carry the responsibility with me.

At the time, I loved her deeply, but I do not think I fully understood yet what it meant to have another life fully depend on me.

Then life changed.

Over the past couple months, Mochi gradually went from having two people caring for her to just me being consistently present in her life. And that shift changed me in ways I could not possibly have anticipated.

Suddenly, everything became heavier in a different way.

Not burdensome.
Not resentful.
But sacred.

Because now there was no one else automatically noticing whether she ate, whether she needed to go outside, whether she seemed off emotionally, whether her routine stayed stable, or whether she simply needed comfort and attention.

Dogs cannot tell you they’re hungry.
They cannot explain pain.
They cannot verbally say they’re lonely, anxious, uncomfortable, or sick.

They simply trust you to notice.

And that realization humbled me deeply.

When Mochi first came into my life, there were also so many opinions around me. So many people approached me about taking her from my hands. They told me I traveled too much. They told me I could not do this by myself. They told me she would be better off with someone else.

And maybe, from the outside, they thought they were being practical. Maybe they thought they were helping. But what they did not understand was that walking away from Mochi never even occurred to me.

If there is one thing to know about me, it is that I have never responded well to being told I cannot do something. Maybe that is stubbornness. Maybe it is motivation. Maybe it is love. But when it came to Mochi, all I knew was that I was willing to change my life to become a better mom for her.

Let all that you do be done in love – 1 Corinthians 16:14

My commitment to her is something I take seriously. It is something I hold myself accountable for. There were people willing to adopt her in the beginning, but she came home with me. She has always known a home where she was loved and cared for, and now, in this new season of life, that responsibility mostly rests with me.

That matters to me.

Mochi did not ask to be passed around. She did not ask to be someone’s temporary responsibility. She came into my life trusting me, depending on me, and loving me in the only way she knew how. And I could not look at that kind of trust and decide it was inconvenient.

Yes, my life had to change.
Yes, I had to think differently.
I had to plan better, travel differently, and become more intentional with my time.

But that is what love does.

Love does not always arrive when life is perfectly ready. Sometimes love arrives and asks you to grow.

And Mochi made me grow.

We love because He first loved us – 1 John 4:19

She taught me responsibility.
She taught me patience.
She taught me consistency.
She taught me sacrifice.

My routine changed because of her. I started waking up two hours before my first meeting just to make sure she did her business, had breakfast, got her treats, and had time to play before my workday started. In the afternoons, I made sure she was fed again. At night, I tried to play with her so she wouldn’t just lay there bored and lonely.

Because of her, I became more disciplined too. I started eating on time. Resting more intentionally. Structuring my days around consistency and care.

Sometimes I intentionally read Scripture out loud while she rests beside me. Sometimes we watch sermons together. Sometimes we just exist quietly in the same room.

And somehow those moments feel peaceful.

Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord – Colossians 3:23

Before Mochi, I thought love was mostly emotion.
Now I think love is routine.

Love is waking up early when you’re exhausted.
Love is structuring your life around another being’s wellbeing.
Love is staying patient when you’re overwhelmed.
Love is showing up repeatedly, even when nobody sees it.

There are also moments where I get frustrated, if I am being honest. Mochi has this tendency to suddenly need to do her business right before I am about to leave the house. Sometimes I wonder if it is her little way of delaying me just so she can have a few more extra minutes with me before I go.

And because she does not do stairs after falling down them twice as a puppy, I carry her up and down two sets of stairs multiple times a day.

Some days, it becomes physically exhausting.

There are moments where I sigh heavily because I am already late, already tired, already mentally stretched thin, and suddenly I am carrying her up and down those stairs again while trying to juggle everything else at the moment.

But even in those frustrating moments, God has been teaching me patience.

Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love – Ephesians 4:2

Because love is not proven only in the easy moments.
Love is proven in repetition.
In inconvenience.
In sacrifice.
In continuing to show up with care even when you are tired.

And the truth is, every time I carry her, I am reminded that she trusts me completely. She feels safest in my arms. That responsibility can feel heavy sometimes, but it is also deeply sacred.

Love is patient, love is kind… it always protects, always perseveres – 1 Corinthians 13:4-7

But one of the hardest parts of loving Mochi has been realizing how fragile life truly is — and how much responsibility comes with being trusted to care for another creature.

There were moments where I failed her simply because I did not know better.

One of the scariest incidents happened when she almost died after ingesting one of my indoor plants. I had absolutely no idea some common houseplants were toxic to dogs. To me, they were just decorations sitting quietly in the corners of my house. But to her, they were something curious to sniff, chew, and explore.

I remember the panic and guilt washing over me afterward.

How could I not have known?
How did I allow something dangerous into her environment without realizing it?

Looking back now as a Christian, I can see that even those moments were quietly teaching me lessons about stewardship, attentiveness, and responsibility long before I fully understood them spiritually.

Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much – Luke 16:10

Stewardship requires awareness.
Love requires attentiveness.
Responsibility means learning continuously.

I realized that caring for someone means educating yourself, protecting them from dangers they themselves cannot understand, and remaining humble enough to admit when you’ve made mistakes.

Another painful lesson came when she developed a severe anal gland infection that I completely failed to recognize at first. She stopped eating for a few days, but I mistakenly assumed she was simply sad because she missed playing with some dogs and cats she had spent time with recently.

I didn’t immediately realize she was suffering physically.

And honestly, the guilt from that stayed with me for a while.

Because she could not verbally tell me she was in pain.
She depended on me to notice.

That experience softened my heart even more toward both animals and people. Sometimes suffering is quiet. Sometimes pain hides behind silence, withdrawal, or behavioral changes we dismiss too quickly.

Clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience – Colossians 3:12

Humility became a huge part of this journey for me.

Because being Mochi’s mom forced me to confront the truth that love alone is not enough. Good intentions are not enough. Care also requires wisdom, learning, attentiveness, discipline, and presence.

And perhaps that is true spiritually too.

We often think love is simply a feeling, but God consistently shows throughout Scripture that love is demonstrated through faithful action.

The Lord God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it – Genesis 2:15

The very first assignment God gave humanity was stewardship.

To tend.
To protect.
To nurture.
To care faithfully for what was entrusted to them.

Mochi helped me understand that in a deeply personal way.

She taught me that responsibility is not about convenience. It is about commitment. About staying, even when things are difficult. About refusing the easy way out when someone you love depends on you.

For me, being Mochi’s mom means choosing her again and again. Not only when it is simple. Not only when my schedule is easy. Not only when other people understand. But even when it requires sacrifice, patience, and change.

People may have believed she would be better off somewhere else. But I knew in my heart that Mochi belonged with me. And I also knew that I was capable of becoming the person she needed.

That is the part people sometimes miss.

Love is not just a feeling.
It is accountability.
It is action.
It is the quiet promise that says, “I will not give up on you.”

Above all, love each other deeply… –1 Peter 4:8

What breaks my heart most sometimes is realizing that while I have work, friends, church, errands, and a life outside these walls… she mostly only has me.

Even when I leave for a few hours, I think about her waiting patiently at home. Yet every single time I walk through the door, she greets me with joy as if I’m the greatest part of her world.

And honestly, I have no idea how anyone could meet Mochi and not instantly love her. She captures everyone’s heart. She treats every person — even complete strangers — like they are already her best friend. There is something so pure about the way she loves without hesitation, suspicion, or conditions.

In many ways, I think dogs reflect pieces of the kind of love God wants us to have toward one another — openhearted, forgiving, joyful, and sincere.

Be devoted to one another in love – Romans 12:10

The way I constantly think about Mochi’s needs — whether she ate, whether she feels lonely, whether she is safe — gives me a tiny glimpse into God’s attentive care for us.

Look at the birds of the air… your heavenly Father feeds them – Matthew 6:26

Just as Mochi depends on me daily, I too depend on God daily whether I realize it or not.

Lately, it even feels like she knows I’ve been juggling a new job and a completely new routine. She gently demands my attention when she needs to go downstairs to do her business or wants to play, almost reminding me to slow down and be present again.

She doesn’t ask for much.
A little playtime.
A little affection.
Presence.

And every single day, I make an intentional effort to tell Mochi how loved she is. Maybe she does not understand every word I say, but I still want her to feel it. I want her life to be filled with affection, safety, warmth, and reassurance.

Sometimes I think about how God constantly reminds us throughout Scripture that we are loved too. Not because we earned it perfectly, but because His love is faithful and constant.

Love one another as I have loved you – John 13:34

And in many ways, loving Mochi daily — through words, care, consistency, and presence — has taught me how powerful it is to make love known instead of merely assumed.

And in return, she gives me loyalty, companionship, comfort, forgiveness, and unconditional love.

I never thought in a million years I would feel this protective over another being. But now, I genuinely do not want to leave her alone if I can help it.

She is my world now.
And I am hers.

For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also – Matthew 6:21

Which is why anyone who enters my life in the future must understand something very clearly:

Mochi is not separate from me.
She is part of the package.

Mochi came home to me. And from that moment on, she was mine to protect, mine to love, and mine to grow for.

I did not walk away from her.

I changed for her.

Because somewhere along the journey, she stopped being “just a dog.”

She became family.

And through loving her, God quietly taught me what faithful care, stewardship, patience, compassion, and sacrificial love truly look like in everyday life.