You guys gave Toby a wonderful home for all of his life. God loves his creatures great and small. I was at Butterfly Pavilion recently and God has some pretty amazing creations including that wonderful Toby. BFP is for another message. Hugs go out to both of you and all the kids too.


----- Original Message -----
From: Phil Scovell <[log in to unmask]>
To: [log in to unmask]
Date: Saturday, October 18, 2014 5:00 pm
Subject: Goodbye Toby

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> Toby was a stray dog running loose on the streets when my youngest son, over 16 years ago, found him.  He was a few blocks away from the drapery shop he work for and now personally owns.  Toby followed his pickup back to the drapery shop and hung around the shop, outdoors, all day.  My son called and told me because he had heard Sandy and I talking about looking for a black lab and this stray was exactly what we were looking for.  We decided against it and my son came home after work without him.  In an hour or so, my brother in law, whose basement housed the drapery shop, called and told me the dog was sitting under their backyard deck and did we, or Everett, want him.  I called Everett and he went and got him.  He was so skinny and boney, you could play a tune on his ribs sticking out.  It took a year to get some meat on his bones but he turned out to be a wonderful dog.  We started calling him Grandpa when his black fur turn silvery gray.  In a wolf pack, the old dogs turning gray, or silver haired, are shunned by the younger in the pack and become lone wolves known to mountain men as silver tips or old grays.  They are left to fend for themselves and often don't live much longer once turned away by the pack.  Toby was a silver tip and over the last couple of years had lost most of his sight and all of his hearing.  He was still strong and healthy and he got along fine by using his sense of smell.  We finally had to keep a baby gate across the kitchen doorway because Grandpa would sneak into the kitchen and using one of his front paws, step down on the trigger foot peddle that opened the trash compacter.  Often, by the time we ran in there, he already had pulled out trash trying to find an extra meal.  In recent weeks, he grew more feeble and while Sandy was gone to Iowa a couple of weeks ago, I heard Toby in the backyard barking and barking.  He couldn't hear me calling his name, of course, and I couldn't quite get to where he was due to my back.  So I called my son, whose shop is now in his large garage in our backyard and he told me Toby was just sitting and barking like he was lost.  That's what he was, lost, and without other dogs around him that we have, he couldn't find his way back to the steps leading up to the deck.  I knew it wouldn't be long and prayed he wouldn't die in his sleep that night.  He was a minimum of 17 years of age so that made him well over the century mark in dog years.  We believe he was closer to 18 years.  In the past few days, he would lay down but could not get up on his own so we knew it was time.  Sandy and my daughter, the last dog we had when Gretchen lived with us as a teenager, took Toby to the vet.  They have a room all set up where the dogs can lay comfortably on padding.  The old hound couldn't hear us say goodbye but he could feel our touch as we took turns petting and patting him.  The euthanasia begins with a muscle relaxant which they use to calm the animal for a few minutes and then they administer to final shot.  Grandpa passed away calmly and peacefully and without lingering.  Jesus gave us a lot of years with a friendly old dog that somebody turned out to roam the streets to die but Jesus fooled them, looked out for one of his own pets He created, and we got to take care of him and to enjoy him for about 18 years.  See you soon, Grandpa.
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> Phil.
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As Always, Vicki
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