Letter from Sir Toby

My name is Sir Toby. You might think it a bit pompous for a white, small dog like me. However, my daddies Thom and Lorenzo think it’s pretty neat and love to introduce me to strangers we meet on the streets as Sir Toby, crooning the word Sir as if reaching for a high note in the musical scale.

The first day I joined their home, where a man from a place that rescues dogs brought me along with another dog, Donnie, I claimed the territory as my own. However, Donny refused to give in and he and I battled over who’d be top dog. Our new daddies, Lorenzo, particularly, were annoyed with the fighting and the barking that two male dogs, who hadn’t known each other before, created. Two days after our arrival, I heard Daddy Lorenzo call that man, saying, “I don’t think this is going to work.” The man must have reassured him it would be fine in the end, that he had to give it time, because our new dads didn’t throw us out like discarded tissues, which by the way Donnie loved to fish out of waste baskets to eat. That didn’t make our daddies very happy.

They hired a trainer, who came to the house once a week to teach us good manners. I did well, but Donnie was lazy, according to the trainer. I thought maybe our daddies would get rid of him. But no, they kept us both, and I’m glad they did, for eventually Donnie and I became good friends, brothers really, although like all good brothers, we had our little skirmishes here and there.

Two years ago, the Vet told our daddies that Donnie had kidney failure, probably from eating all those tissues. He got very weak, refusing to eat or even go for walks. Soon Donnie was gone and our daddies turned our home into a pool of tears.

Recently, my daddies moved to a house where a big yard full of trees, flowers, and many exciting new smells greeted me. Donnie and I would have loved playing there. I sniff all around the perimeter of that fenced-in place, but don’t really play in it. At thirteen and a half, I’m blind and completely deaf; I prefer to spend my days sleeping.

I can sense my daddies’ love when they guide me gently through the house although I’ve pretty much learned how to get around it without any help. They worry because they know the end for me is fast approaching. I wish they won’t cry as much as they did for Donny. It broke my heart to see them so sad. When I’m gone I want them to remember how much they’ve loved me, and how much I’ve loved them back.

I also want that whenever they talk about me, they will always call me Sir Toby.

8 thoughts on “Letter from Sir Toby

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