Senior Pets

Our Tobey was the best boy. I still remember the day we picked him up from the shelter. He was jet black with a white stripe down his belly, curled up next to his brothers and sisters who were golden and white, all with curly, spaniel-like ears.

“We want the one that looks like a skunk!” my brother said, and the attendant took him out and let us meet him.

Tobey was a happy puppy. Elated to be let out of the pen, he sprinted across the shelter’s outdoor enclosure, grinning like a maniac. He rolled on his belly to let us pet him and smiled deliriously when we gave him treats.

It was love at first sight—and Tobey loved us back. He would greet us at the door by jumping up and down, launching his body against ours and whirling around the room in circles. This standard greeting would last for at least five minutes.

We had specifically selected a male dog to provide a masculine presence for my brother. Our household consisted of my mother, my grandmother, my sister, several of my mother’s female friends, and myself—all living under one roof. My brother was sorely outnumbered. With Tobey’s pretty face and curly ears, though, passersby always assumed he was a girl. He didn’t just walk; he pranced.

Tobey only had eyes for my mother. He watched her attentively all day long and insisted on being by her side at all times. If one of my siblings or I happened to be sitting next to our mother on the couch, Tobey would sit by the door, indicating that he had to go outside. We would get up, grab his leash, and head to the door. (He knew my mother, the alpha, wasn’t getting up.) Tobey would wait until we were about to fasten his leash before sprinting behind us and jumping up onto the couch, reclaiming his spot next to my mother—grinning like a jack-o’-lantern, tail wagging away.

“He was perfect,” my mom says of Tobey. She fed him a homemade medley of chicken, brown rice, and peas, with the occasional slice of bacon and ice cream. “He thinks he’s a person,” my mom would say.

“Do you think he thinks of us as his siblings?” I once asked.

“No,” my mother said. “He thinks he’s superior, but he loves you.”

A few years ago, my mother called to tell us that she had to put Tobey down. He’d lived to seventeen-and-a-half years old with no health problems until the last few months of his life. He’d developed daily seizures and had become anxious and withdrawn. I cried in the car—and I’m crying now thinking about it.

Tobey, like all pets, was a family member and added so much to our lives. He had the sunniest disposition and was loved by everyone—friends, neighbors, strangers, and mailmen. It was an honor to know him and grow older with him. He softened the bad days and made the good days brighter with his big goofy smile and comforting presence.

At Pennsylvania Legacy Video, we believe pets are an important part of every family. We welcome the opportunity to make a film about the special dogs, cats, horses, and other cherished animals in your life. If you would like to collaborate with us on a video about your senior pet, reach out to us today! We’d love to hear from you.