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Date Posted: 21:38:35 04/26/03 Sat
Author: Lisa
Subject: My sweet "little man" Toby Jake

Little Toby Jake-we called you "bad dog" so much, you answered to it-and "little Man" too, because you thought you were in charge of the house-three women and you, Mom, Jess, and your sister Toto, our "beanstress", who wrestled and played with you like a frisky terrier, even though she's a chubby half basset-you brought out the energy in her. I would come home, and you'd wag your little sheep tail, and yap, and I'd say, "Momma momma momma momma" for you, and you'd bark louder, as if to say, "Yes, I'm so glad you're home!" You were so loyal. always at my side; while Tote would go lie down, you'd stay up with me and sigh at the lateness of the hour, and rest at my feet. You'd walk so proudly on your coupler with Toto, walking on tiptoe and chasing every squirrel you saw. You'd steal treats from her, and get to the food first; you'd pee in the house, or chew up one of Jess's toys, and we'd say, "TOBY JAKE! BAD DOG!" and you'd look so sorry, and then go do it again. You never liked little boys; they had abused you, and you weren't going to let it happen again. We were your third owners in a year and a half; silky terriers aren't supposed to be so naughty, but you were. Still, we found enough good in you to love you so much-proof that any dog can be at home somewhere. You were so cute! Our little watchdog, all 19 pounds of you-we would laugh and call you "killer dog." You loved to play with the backyard neighbors' yorkies. I shall miss you forever, you precious little hairball. I will never forget how you'd try to be a "tough dog"-and then I'd pick you up, and your ears would fold down because you knew you weren't all that big after all. Momma was alpha, and you knew it. You would lick Tote's eyes, and she loved it-how you would growl and wrestle together! The house is silent now-Toto's a quiet dog. We'll bury you tomorrow-you weren't as tough as the car that hit you, when you ran impulsively out the door. They didn't even stop, didn't even say they were sorry-and all the muscle in your powerful hips couldn't keep them from breaking. The vet said you were suffering, and I had to put you down-you laid your head down for the last time and went to sleep on my hand. How I cried. I can't stop crying, wishing that all the miracles we have for people would have been there for you. But such a little dog was no match for such a large, fast car. I miss you little man. We got a tile at Pewabic Pottery to remember you by. We have our pictures, and 3 years of memories-but it's not enough. I hope you are playing in a field somewhere, chasing the squrrels with your terrier friends. And someday I pray I will see you and play with you again. You will always be our little man.

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