Intro to Tovi's "Yet-To-Be-Finished" Tail

"Tovi" Photo by Jenny Combs

My tail is 48 double spaced pages at last count. And I'm still writing. Writing about Tovi is the one thing that keeps me feeling connected to him. Years ago, the thought of revisiting the memories would just make me cry, but after seven years, I find myself excited to sit down and write. I now want to remember. It brings a smile to my face - something I once never thought possible.

It would be a bit overwhelming to share what is becoming the length of a book on a blog post, so for now, I am simply sharing the intro.

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They say you’re lucky if you have one great love in your life. I had That love.

You see, Tovi was the closest thing to a soulmate I've ever had, even more than my husband, who I am deeply in love with.  I adopted him when I was twenty-five and he died a few days after my thirty-seventh birthday.

He had a Corgi body, German Shephard coloring, velvety soft hair, and floppy ears like a Golden Retriever and a tail thick as a Chow’s. His short legs contrasted with a larger upper body making him appear as though he hadn’t quite grown into his adult body.

He was there for me during those tumultuous twenties and having him as a stable presence grew me up as I pulled my otherwise chaotic life together enough to care for another being. He came everywhere with me, like a living and breathing security blanket. We lived in nine places. We hiked countless trails. He traveled to my dad’s funeral, where we stayed at a dog-friendly hotel, and he brought smiles to an otherwise mourning crowd while attending Shiva. He walked me down the aisle and gave me away to a man I would later divorce. At my second wedding, in place of flowers, I walked down the aisle carrying a bully stick and gently handed it to the “Best Dog” as he lay at the alter next to my soon-to-be husband.

He was the kindest, happiest soul I’ve ever known and being his ‘mom’ was the greatest honor of my life. When he died, not only did I grieve his loss, but I grieved the life he witnessed. His body held the most intimate moments of the past twelve years of my life that had long passed:  Every beautiful, tragic, and ordinary moment in between. I grieved the Before, and I struggled to settle into my After. I didn’t know how to do life without him.