Sentimental Drivel

TOBY

1995 - 2010

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Call this a eulogy I guess, because yesterday I had the grim chore of taking the old dog to the vet for the last time.

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Toby was 15 years old, mostly deaf, couldn't walk up and down steps very well, fell down a lot, and it was, well, time.

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Heck, a year ago, when my wife noticed he was getting skinny, and not wanting to eat anything but soft food, and not chewing on pigs ears anymore, she switched him to softer food, because his teeth were getting pretty well dulled down.

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It was a June day, in 1995 when he came wandering up the alley, just a puppy. The kids were playing with him, and I told them to stop playing with him, so that he could find his way back home.

Later that afternoon, some neighbors I knew down at 3rd & Yellowstone, Terry Huck, and Naomi Ingalls came up the sidewalk with him in tow on a leash, trying to figure out where he lived.

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The kids (and wife) petitioned me to let him stay, after all, we had an empty doghouse in the back yard, and he wouldn't be any trouble to me, since he'd be THEIR Dog, and they would walk him, feed him, and do everything -

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So I agreed that he could stay, OUTSIDE, for a couple of nights, until we figured out where he belonged.

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That was almost 15 years ago.

He stayed outside all right, until dusk, the first day, then he started whining, and I pulled out a box, put it in our room, and I listened to him scratch at it and complain until he fell asleep.

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Funny how easy they become part of the family.

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Toby was just an average American mutt, black as tar, and looked like some kind of flat-haired retriever mix. Smart dog. He mastered the roll over, play dead, lay down, get it, and stay commands in about an hour. I taught him hand-signals for them too, which was a good thing later on, when he lost his hearing.

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He was the kids constant companion. In the summer, they'd go out and play, and he'd either try to participate, or just sit and watch them. After a few dunkings in the backyard pool, he understood the pool behavior, and he'd stay just out of splash range. Nobody got within 20 yards of the back fence but what he'd charge over and threaten them.

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They even put him on the trampoline sometimes, which he hated, but endured.

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He got along with little dogs, loved chasing cats, and had a little-guy chip on his shoulder when it came to big dogs. Toby weighed 38 lbs in his prime, and the one time he saw a 130 lb Akita being walked down the alley, what did he do - but ran over and jumped on him, biting and snarling, and after the other dog had him pinned to the ground, he just layed there and snarled until we pulled them apart.

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Did he learn? Nope - he pulled something like that at least once a year.

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How do you sum up 15 years? In 5 words - He was a good dog.

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He lived a full life, and it was sad to see him declining.

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Yesterday morning, I let him in, and he looked at the back steps, looked over his shoulder at me, and then looked at the steps again, and barely made it up the three steps.

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It was time.

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I called the Vet Clinic, got an appointment, and thought about doing something nice for him, like cooking him an egg or something, but he was sleeping (he sleeps about 16 hours a day anymore) and I figured I'd let him keep his normal routine before we went.

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The kids found out, when they got home from school that the dog was gone, and they took it pretty well at first, the words 'Dog Murderer' didn't come up for a couple of hours.

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Adios campadre. Vaya Con Dios .