A dog was the one constant in my life for a big part of my childhood. Being there for my family and me through death and divorce, Toby never failed to cheer us up. With his huge brown eyes and fluffy body, he could soak up all the tears with all of his hair. I couldn’t remember a time without that not so little pup around, until the summer after my sophomore year of college when he couldn’t bounce around like he used to.

We got Toby from the SPCA a couple years before my parents got divorced. I was a middle school girl craving the companionship my friends had—brothers aren’t the same as dogs even though they may smell the same. So, as my brother, dad and I sprinted into the shelter we saw the exact dog my dad described as his dream dog in the first suite. His missing tail and enthusiasm to see us made it impossible to refuse to take him home to my unwitting mom. The first night with him was filled with excitement, teaching him to sit and shake. We had no idea how much he would mean to all of us.

In the fall of 2007, my family lost someone who was a big facet of our lives. As my mother sat on the back porch steps of our family lake house, Toby sat right next to her. It was the most consoling action someone could need in a devastating moment like that. Toby had a keen sense of when he was needed for hugs and love. The nights when we were confused and lost, Toby was always awake to lick the saltiness off our cheeks.

A couple years later my parents got divorced. I was new to high school and adjusting to moving back and forth from my mom’s and my dad’s places. Toby went to live with my dad, but every time my dad brought him to pick us up from my mom’s, she would come out to rub his ear, which never quite stood up like the other would. We would go to the lake with my dad every other weekend and bring our fluffy pup in the back seat. He would drool over the head rests anticipating how good the water would feel on his paws because that is as far as he would go out into it. Toby yet again knew how to comfort my brother and I as we adjusted to a new lifestyle, and my dad when he needed a buddy out at the lake.

The choice to go to college out of state was a big one for me, it meant not being around those that had raised me and accompanied me through my childhood. I moved into a dorm without any dog hair, except for the ones that attached to my comforter from Toby borrowing it. I missed many things, including having someone there to go through this huge adjustment with. Toby was there for every major change through growing up, but he was three hours away and couldn’t necessarily drive up their because of the lack of fingers to hit the blinkers.

When my dad warned my brother and I of Toby’s age, it was the first time it occurred to me that he wasn’t going to always be here. I had never addressed his mortality growing up because he was always there. When Toby’s hips gave out the joke of him being such a big dog was then said with a discouraged tone. The morning of my brother’s high school graduation, we had to say goodbye to Toby. I didn’t anticipate crying so much, or how much I would miss him.

About a month after we lost Toby, we came across a new addition to our lives. In a tiny pin at Canton Trade Days, little green eyes looked up to us begging to be picked up. As my dad cuddled the only pup he held that day, I saw that he needed her. He needed a new lake buddy and we needed another source of happiness, which Toby had brought so much of. As we walked away with Liberty, she reminded us so much of Toby, her sometimes floppy ear, the way she lays her bare belly on the cool floor and how she doesn’t needlessly bark. The things we loved about Toby are never gone, just made more special as we welcome a new pup into our lives. Losing a pet was something I never anticipated, but the joy of another being placed in our lives when we needed it makes it all the more special. It’s OK to be devastated by the loss of a pet, but the sadness should be overcome by love for the memories you made with them. Our walls are lined in scattered pictures of Toby while we appreciate our time we had with him, and create new memories with Liberty. So, as I go back to college far away, I will remember to savor experiences with her and keep in mind the temporary nature of life. Cause even if we don’t acknowledge our impermanence, doesn’t mean that it isn’t there. Hug your pets as much as they will possibly let you.