On and off Tobey had been having issues walking. His hind legs just weren’t what they used to be but in the time I had been home he gave no indication that his legs were giving out. He would follow me around, greet me when I got home. Everything seemed fine. I would use my half hour lunch break to visit him at home to make sure he was doing okay and more often than not he’d be sleeping and I’d quietly leave. Anyone who really knows me understands that my pets mean more to me than most things in life. They are a part of my family.
With my impending move to WA coming up all I could think about was if Tobey would be okay. If he would be able to handle not seeing me everyday as he had when I was in school for undergrad. It physically hurt to think that he would feel an absence in our shared bedroom. That the person who doted on him only second to our dad was not around to rub his belly or jiggle his gobbler or sneak him bits of food and pretend like nothing was going on. Moving day came and I remember praying that he be okay, that he be fine when I visited next. I gave him as many kisses, hugs and cuddles as he would allow and I left teary-eyed and hoping that nothing would happen to him.