Toby and Tyra

I just found out that my mother's pet dogs already passed away. Our neighbors in the old house who were taking care of them for us texted me the sad news that Tyra and Toby passed away recently and only three days apart from each other. Mama loved those askals. Especially Toby whom she got thirteen years ago. She named the puppy Toby because she got her on an October. The dogs kept her company when we were at work. And also Papa after he retired. My mother fed them, bathed them, took care of them when they were sick. She talked to them as she would talk to children. When disciplining them, she used her stern voice which was very familiar to me and my siblings.

When Toby was still little, I distinctly remember the incident when we woke up one morning and found shreds of paper strewn about on the kitchen floor. Toby had bitten off and chewed on the cover and first few pages of my sister's copy of Salinger's Nine Stories. My sister is very particular with her things and it was a big deal. I tried to salvage what was left of the book and taped torn pages, teeth marks and all. When my sister found out, she whined to our mother. And Mama told us in all seriousness that we should not worry about it; she has already reprimanded Toby and told her that what she did was a wrong thing and she won't do it again.

I remember how my sister and I were so incredulous at the resolution that my mother offered. Toby was a dog, after all, and what good did it do that the pet was told off? BUt that's how Mama was. She believed that the pets understood. She told me that Toby was aware whenever she was planning to give the dogs a bath. Just planning, no water hose involved yet. She came to this conclusion because Toby would hide under beds every single time. Tyra was a little slower and would be the first to be subjected to the unwelcome baths. But Tyra had always been the amiable one. We joked how lousy she was as a guard dog because she was friendly to all strangers. Both dogs would always rush out of the house whenever the gate was opened. But they always, always found their way back home.

When my parents passed away, Toby and Tyra were both inconsolable. Since we did not stay at our parents' house anymore, we had to leave them in the custody of our neighbors. They told us of how the dogs whimpered at night. And how the both of them waited around at our locked house, seemingly waiting for any member of the family to come home. They shared our grief.

I texted my siblings about Toby and Tyra and got separate phone calls from them. Both are working overseas, living separately in the same city. We couldn't hide the sadness we felt and my sister unsuccessfully tried to hold back tears at work. We all just hope that the dogs were reunited with our parents and maybe Toby can even nag Salinger himself.