I usually do not begin my column with an obituary but here we are. My beautiful Toby passed away at age 18 years and two months old on April 15. He was born on Valentine’s day. He was a love bug and a character. I like to joke that because my house is small I had two groups for his birthday party. The first group were those he had bitten. Second tier were those he had not. Guess which group was larger?

Oh, I always made sure his rabies and distemper shots, and heartworm medicine were up to date. But after I saved him from euthanasia he was devoted to me. Just ask our wonderful animal control officer, Heather Maciel. Toby stayed by my side when I returned from every hospitalization. He resented anyone who hugged me on my birthday. He looked askance at every letter carrier, UPS and FedEx delivery person. He chewed the cushions on countless chairs. When he passed during National Poetry Month all I could think of was Robert Frost’s poem Bereft. I suggest you look that up if you are not familiar with it.

My life is empty now. But one thing I know for sure is we gave each other the best of lives.