Today, I said goodbye to an old friend. Most of the people who visit this blog knew Toby and just how much I loved my dog. 14 years and 8 months - that's how long we spent together. 8 homes, 3 states, 2 continents, a few relationships and 1 stint in quarantine. I'm sure most of you have a funny (or maybe disgusting) tale to tell about my little buddy. I have SO many memories that have surfaced today and want to share just a few:
Oh, how he loved Baba. He was FURIOUS that I brought Toby home, but the two of them turned out to be dear friends. I'll never forget how he would spend hours rubbing Toby's neck after Toby's car accident. Toby brought out the most special kind of tenderness in this man. There has never been a better fed dog. His favorite nickname for Toby - 'Chepechous'. I wouldn't be surprised if right now, in some better place, Toby's getting a great neck rub.
I used to come home from work to find Toby, asleep on the dining table (after eating anything left from breakfast or last night's dinner). This happened quite often for the better part of a year.
Toby loved corn on the cob....he nearly took my mom's arm off one summer afternoon when she tried to take one away from him.
Toby never really hung out with other dogs, until I moved in with Amber and Lin. I was so afraid that Zeke was going to eat Toby. One morning, just days after I moved in, I was in my bathroom getting ready for the day when I heard yelping and growling coming from the living room. Thinking my dog had been eaten, I panicky raced in to find Toby attacking Zeke, hanging from Zeke's neck, by his teeth. Once Toby proved his status in the house - they were great friends. Zeke usually spent the day in his crate and it wasn't uncommon to come home to Toby asleep in front of it.
He was so afraid of water. The first time I took him to the park, he chased a duck straight into the pond and had to swim out. It was enough to freak him out for life. He wouldn't even walk across a wet sidewalk. However, he loved to ride on our jetskis, loved to go fishing at Rockport and East Canyon and loved long rides in the car. The exception was when we moved to California with Andy. He barfed from Las Vegas to Menlo Park. Andy and I (not to mention the cab of the uHaul) were COVERED in dog barf.
When we moved to London, we found a
dogsitter named Barry. Barry looked to be a stereotypical east
Londoner. However, he had a heart of gold and adored Toby. His special name for Toby was "
chupy" because he felt Toby resembled
Chupacabra from the X-Files.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/ChupacabraCome to find out, Barry couldn't stand for Toby to be home alone when we were out of town. Whenever we would hire him to come twice a day to let him out, he would pick him up and take him home for the duration of our trip. He teased that Toby needed to learn some manners when it came to food, but was otherwise a very lovable dog.
He was just that. A very lovable dog. Every milestone in my adult life- the good and the bad - he's been there for me, my ever constant companion. I have to laugh when I think about how much that little guy has been through, how many times he cheated death. He was a magnet for disaster. I'm saddened that he's no longer with us, yet blessed that he was such a great friend that hung on for so long.
I miss him so much already.
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