Saying Goodbye

I always said that Toby adopted us. It was two weeks after my first Chihuahua, Chipper, had passed away at 14. (I had had him since I was six-years-old.) I had decided that I would wait before getting another dog. I already had a chocolate Lab. One Saturday my family and I were going to Louisiana to see my grandmother. My dad made a pit stop at a rundown shack-of-a-home in Monticello. Honestly, it looked like a crack house. It was dirty and there was very little furniture. We didn't want to sit anywhere and quite frankly I was ready to leave. The guy opened the door to a bedroom that was positioned off of the living area. These tiny little Chihuahua puppies came bouncing out of the room. All of them went in one direction, but this little fawn-colored, eight-week-old puppy ran to me. He put his little paws on my shoe and looked up at me. I looked at my dad and the next words out of his mouth was, "How much?" He knew I had changed my mind and this little guy was coming home with us.

When we got to my grandmother's, I sat him down to go to the bathroom. You could barely see him in the grass! My parents visited with my grandmother and I ran to Wal-Mart and got him some things. He fit in the palm of my hand. He was such a good little puppy with lots of personality. I remember when we brought him home, my Lab took one look at him with the intent to say, "What is this?" It wasn't long and they became the best of friends. I was so worried about the Lab getting too rough with Toby, but he was always very gentle. One afternoon I was dusting the dinging room table, I heard this slam and Toby started yelping. I freaked, hit my head on the table as I scrambled to get to him. The Lab was playing with his toy. Toby grabbed hold and when the Lab went to shake the toy, slammed Toby in the process. He was fine. He shook it off and was right back in the middle of things in a split second.

I hadn't had Toby very long when I got sick. I had a bought with vertigo. The room was spinning. I was dizzy. I was throwing up. He was only about ten-weeks old. He was not housebroken at the time. But I could not make myself get up to let him outside. It was one in the afternoon before I was able to make it to the door to let him out. During this time, he stayed close to me. He never had an accident, but he was certainly ready to go when I sat him outside! That always amazed me that he held it that long.

He was so full of antics and for the life of me, I can't recall most of them! I always had a new Toby story for my coworkers. My secretary at the time suggested that I make a coffee table book of his pics and stories. I wished I had done just that. I do remember the time that he and the Lab were playing with a stuffed toy. Toby shook the thing to death and then tossed it into the Christmas tree. He sat at the base of the tree and stared at the toy until I got it for him. Once I got on to the Lab for some reason and sent him to his crate. When I went to get him, I found both him and Toby in the crate together - partners in crime.

He loved my grandmother and my aunt. He never forgot my grandmother, even though he only saw her a few weeks out of the year. Her lap was his spot. He loved to give hugs. He would nuzzle his head under my chin and continue to snuggle. And he loved to go. Mention the word and he would tuck his tail and do a circle and head for the door. He knew how to sit and lay down. I taught him that in one night using treats. He would also dance for a treat. He would stand on his back legs and twirl. I use to tell him that I was going to get him a tutu.

He was a sweet boy and mama's boy! Once I had to work all night and he was beside himself. He refused to eat for three days. He grieved for me and now I grieve for him. For fifteen (almost 16) years, he was a devoted furbaby and loyal friend. He may be gone, but he certainly never will be forgotten. Until we meet again, baby boy, lots of hugs, love and kisses. Mama loves you!

And as if he were talking to me, this happened to show up in my feed last night before bed: