Good Ol' Toby left us this week. He was 15 years old, almost to the day. We have had him since he was eight. He was a very sweet fella, loving to be near anyone who would let him, with some pretty intense quirks that resulted from abuse early in his life. He was afraid of feet and sticks, as one might expect. We never could explain his fear of balloons. That was just Toby.
The list of things that Toby has eaten in his life includes socks, tomatoes off the vine (the stinker), and anything plastic - especially legos. Oh, and perler beads... lots and lots of perler beads. He was a good rat dog, and took out his fair share of squirrels, too. The hamster and the chicken he caught were both lucky to have survived. What a funny dog.
He once downed a pound of fudge. They say chocolate can kill a dog, but not this guy. He also survived a pretty bad stroke. But the most amazing thing was how long he hung on in his last few days. He seemed at deaths door, but never went through. We finally decided to help him go, and while I don't want to ever have to go through that again, the folks at the vet clinic honestly made it as gentle and kind a process as one could hope for given what it was that we were actually doing.
It has been quiet around here. No nails on the floor. No cold nose on my leg. Every time I go out to the playroom I am surprised not to see him there. We will miss him.