Well, it is truly the end of an era.
We found out a few months ago that Toby had lung cancer. And about a week ago, we had to put him to sleep. It's amazing how much a dog becomes part of your family and how deeply their loss is felt.
Toby came into our lives shortly after we lost our first dog, Jessie, back when I was in college. My uncle had found him in Georgia and we think he was about a year or two old at the time. Well, he fit in perfectly. Not that he was perfectly well behaved, mind you. But that was part of his charm. He was his own man. He was
super laid back, loveable, full of quirks and more than a little stubborn. And as Dad said, he had us trained so well.
Tobe was pretty low energy most of the time. He proved such a contrast to Hayley, my brother's dog, who is all action, all the time. This photo pretty much sums them up. Hayley, always at the ready and Tobe in the background, always about to take a nap.
This also worked out well around kids. He was incredibly gentle and patient and they could pretty much do whatever they wanted to him and he remained unfazed.
At the Cape, he created his own favorite lounging spot. On either side of the back porch there are bushes. He dug himself a hole under each of the bushes and loved to lay there in the dirt. Happy as a clam.
Now despite his lounging nature, he was also an adventurer. Or perhaps I should say, a scavenger. If he was on the move looking for something interesting to eat, he sure could be hard to catch and would absolutely NOT respond to being called. So, he was selectively active.
Once Geoff and I were at the Cape, heading back to the house after a walk and we saw him bounding down the street towards us with a hunk of bread that he had presumably pilfered from the neighbor's trash.
Obviously, food of any kind was the one thing that could rouse him from his dirt hole nap.
But hands down his favorite delicacy was finding parts of animals from the woods to use as chew toys. The most popular? Deer legs.
The Tobe was such an affection seeker. If you were sitting in a chair, he would come over and either sit directly on your foot or
lean back slowly into your leg. Or both at the same time. He would do this until you started petting him. And if at any time you were petting him and stopped, he would paw your leg lazily until you resumed.
He loved the snow. He loved pancakes on Sunday. He wasn't a swimmer, but would wade in to get his belly wet, lap up a little pond/river/ocean water and walk right back out. He hated fireworks and gunshots and if you remember from
last Christmas, loud noises were about the only thing that ever made him actually swim, when he tried to climb in the boat with Dad & Clay.
He will be desperately missed. It hasn't really hit me, but looking at these pictures, it does a little. I know it will be hardest the next time I go to visit my folks and he won't be there. Mom and Dad just got back to their little house in Maine after 6 weeks in Georgia and Mom said this morning that in that little house you really notice him not taking up his usual space. Oh, my heart. I can't really imagine a world with no Tobe.
I know he lived a full life. And we were lucky to have him as long as we did. And even when he was first diagnosed with cancer, Dad said, "Well, no one told Tobe." He was still eating, still liked to be outside, and seemed fine, besides some weight loss. I'm grateful that his suffering was very short. I'm grateful for the way he meandered his way into our hearts, even though it hurts to be without him. I wouldn't have changed it (or him) for the world. I feel like words can't truly express what I'm feeling or how much we'll miss him. And that I haven't even begun to capture his quirks and personality and all the amazing things about him. He was an institution. He was one of a kind. He was The Tobe.
