Toby

Last September, fresh off the high of a summer in new york, I was just settling into my house at Bucknell when one of my dearest friends, Caroline, asked me to come help her pick out a puppy. It is wildly popular for seniors at my alma mater to a.) move off campus with friends into charming houses downtown, and once step "a" is complete, to b.) get a pet for the house, usually of the canine variety. Thus, off Caroline and I with our friends Kaitlyn and Jenny went, to none-other than Intercourse, Pennsylvania to go see a breeder (yes, Intercourse, home of the Intercourse General Store, Intercourse Cafe and Intercourse Hardware). I had wanted a dog of my own for a while, so this was dangerous territory I was entering into, especially as a seasoned impulse-buyer.

Upon arriving at possibly the most endearing farm I've ever ventured to, we were introduced to the 8 week old puppies and promptly lost our calm, cool, comedic demeanor and entered straight into idiotic, baby-talk gushings. We widdled it down to four baby boys that we wanted to play with, and so the four of us and the four of them ventured to the yard, or, a more appropriate name, the, "how can you leave me hear?" area. I immediately plunked down to play with the puppy I had brought over, but he had other ideas and wandered off to explore. I proceeded to watch my friends play with the puppies, jealous that they would be taking one home for their house while I was stuck with my housemates wench of a cat.

No sooner had I started feeling really down, when a tiny, timid little thing with sleepy eyes and a dopey swagger mozeyed over to me, crawled into my lap, and hunkered down for a nap. We all know the story to come. I, in a very mature and pensive manner, made the decision to enter into a 12+ year, time consuming, expensive, no-take-backs commitment to be his mother. A few signiatures later and the deal was done, good thing I asked or even mentioned the possibility of this to my housemates.




From then on it's been him and me, venturing into the world together, with Chris, Toby's self-proclaimed "pops" along for the ride too. He's gone from an excrement machine to an ICU patient to a now one year old little man (and by little, I mean 80 lbs and counting). Meanwhile I've gone from a pooper scooper and piddle soaker-upper to a nurse, to a body to drag along behind the leash.

This is certainly not easy, it's harder than I had expected it to be. When toby was attacked by a pitbull at 3 months, he had his chest cavity ripped open, puctured lungs, serveral abrasions and for two hours they couldn't tell the horrified, blubbering mess that I was whether he would make it. It's not easy to see something like that happen to someone you love, nor is it easy to wait for a result, or to nurse him back to health for 2 weeks while he is on crate rest when he should be out figuring out what this world is. Even the small things get difficult, planning a weekend vacation and needing to find someone to take care of him or a place to board him, waking up at 5:30 with him to let him out and feed him, finding the energy to walk and play with him every day, it's a lot to do, to remember and to take the time for. But, despite how hard it has been, I will never in my life have a dog as wonderful as Toby. He is loving, intelligent, willing to please, obedient and social, without a mallicious bone in his body; he is the best dog I could imagine.



The beauty of our relationship is in it's consistancy. For the past 8 years I have been moving in and out of dorms and houses, going to and from school and home, going to college, transferring colleges, changing classes and schedules every three months, and enduring my parents divorce. It has been 8 years and will probably be 8 more until I'm settled in a place of permanence in my life, but now I have someone to go through that turmoil with. He's used to going between my house and Chris' both at school and at home, used to changing scenes and people, and anyone who has been in a major upheavel can agree that the one thing that keeps them grounded is something positive and consistent during that time. With Toby, I get positive, consistent, motivating, loving and dopey. What more could one want? Toby would say that peanut butter birthday cake he knows I'm hiding from him, so I think I'm off to give him a little treat!