Right before I married my husband, we bought a house. We spent, by we I mean my soon-to-be-in-laws, spent the summer feathering the nest. The bathroom had to be refinished because the water didn’t run to the upstairs, as well as some other repairs such as glazing the windows. They really didn’t let me do a whole lot with the house, even though I was going to be the one to live in it. I worked a lot at the time, and I think they thought they were doing me a favor.
At any rate, a month after I married my husband I was getting lonely in my house by myself. We worked opposite schedules and we worked a lot. He was an electrician so his schedule was long and he was out of the house. I worked at a restaurant, mostly in the evenings. Cliché alert: we were two ships passing in the night.
I had been threatening/asking to get an animal for our house. I asked Phillip at first, he said no. I took his no as a soft limit. About a month later, a guy I worked with at the Olive Garden asked me if I wanted a puppy. He and his brother had went together and bought two puppies and his brother decided he didn’t want the pup anymore seeing as how he had broken up with the girlfriend responsible for getting the dog. Complicated, I know. He offered me the dog for $50. I said I would come over and see him.
I am one of those people who can look at an animal and instantly fall in love. Knowing this, I stopped at the bank on the way to his house and picked up 50 bucks from the ATM. Later that night I had to buy a dog bowl, food, collar, and a leash. I had bought the puppy. He was half Australian Shepherd, half Labrador Retriever. He had no tail. Though, in retrospect, I vaguely remember Mikey telling me the dogs previous owners had docked it or I might have made that detail up in my head, I don’t remember it was nine years ago.
I bought all of the accoutrements for the dog at target, I was in the store less than 20 minutes and the pup promptly baptized my car with feces. Give me a break, I never had a dog before, EVER. I was 27 and never had a dog.
I brought the pup over to my mom’s and visited my grandpa to show him my acquisition. He liked the dog as long as he wasn’t staying at grandpa’s house. My mom dubbed the pup Toby, after the cat we had that liked to knock olive jars off the table to eat the olives inside. I asked her if I was allowed to name my dog after a previous animal we had, she laughed at me and Toby stuck for his name.
I got Toby in November so he was probably born sometime at the end of August-beginning of September. So, it is Toby’s birthday, he is nine this year. My nine year anniversary to Phillip is Oct. 13 (not originally on a Friday, but occasionally it falls on one) and I always considered November Toby’s birthday because that’s when he came to me.
A couple of weeks ago, I noticed a strange greenish glow in his eyes. You could only see it at certain angles, I believed it to be the beginning of cataracts. My mother in law confirmed my suspicions yesterday. Toby is a good old dog and is wonderful around my son, even though Liam rough houses with him.