Years ago, there was a cartoon in the New Yorker that showed a dog sitting at a desk in front of a computer. The dog at the computer was talking to another dog, who was lying on the floor next to him, and the caption was something like "Nobody knows you're a dog on the internet.”
That certainly is true. In our household, when we are on-line and a name is requested in situations where we do not want to reveal our actual identity, we use the name of the dog pictured in the photograph above, an ancient Norwich Terrier, named Toby, who receives a great deal of mail and many email messages. Indeed, Toby has won prizes and even subscribes to magazines.
No, Toby does not write this blog, but he is lying here next to me at my feet, and after finding my blog in the same category as "It's All About The Cats,” I decided to go to the dogs, literally. I have several animal companions in my household, but Toby has been with us longer than the others, and I thought he deserved some sort of tribute.
Right now, Toby is asleep, as he is much of the day, and he works hard at it. Barely breathing, he hugs the floor. We got him for one of my daughters when he was a young puppy, a small, barking ball of fur that looked more like a Steiff stuffed animal than a living creature. At the time, we already had a Labrador Retriever, as we do now, but my daughter wanted another dog, “a small dog that would stay small." My mother-in-law has had Norwich Terriers for many years. As a result, we were familiar with them, and we obtained Toby from my mother-in-law's breeder.
Now my daughter is twenty years old, and Toby is almost seventeen. He can barely see. He can't hear much, either. Nonetheless, when he is awake, he still patrols the house as best he can, bumping into walls, tangling himself up in chairs, and getting trapped in corners. Sometimes his hind legs give out, and I give him doses of Tramadol twice a day to help him get around. I carry him up and down the stairs, and outside, too.
Still, the old guy keeps on going. He has been a good companion to me and my family, and he is an inspiration to all of us, although his aging has challenged us, for Toby is sometimes incontinent. As a result, he wears what we call a blue denim "man band," in which we place a disposible adult diaper. He doesn't seem to mind that, but he does appear to be troubled, even embarrassed when on occasion he also will leave deposits around the house that require us to watch our step as we move about.
Cleaning up after Toby is annoying, but it is difficult to be upset when he presses up against me with his muzzle, as he often does now. He seems to want the physical contact much more now than he did as a younger dog. He likes to be held much more, too, and when I bring him up onto a couch next to me, he burrows into the cushions and leans against me as he sleeps. It's the least I can do for the old guy, who has given so much to me and my family over the years.
