Some weeks are harder than others

From: Mia Cope

I was looking back in the log we keep for Casa de Togo. It was one year ago this week that we lost Togo — eight months after he was diagnosed with leukemia. His passing was really sad. Momma and Daddy still get water in their eyes sometimes when they talk about him.

Mia on duty as General Manager and Chief Security officer at Casa de Togo

I used “we” twice in the last paragraph. I didn’t know if that was appropriate since I didn’t personally know Togo. In fact, I knew nothing about him or Casa de Togo until over two months after his death. But Momma said it would be okay since I’m part of the family now.

In fact, Momma is certain that Togo knew that she and Daddy would need some special help around the Casa once he was gone. Togo was pretty tight with God when he lived here. Momma thinks that Togo asked God to find someone to take his place.

A breakfast prayer with Togo.

And that’s were I come in. Or more correctly, where I came in.

Change was in the air on the day I arrived. Momma was ready to invite another dog into their lives. Daddy was hesitant. But he was very clear about one thing: “If we get another dog, I want it to spend a lot of time inside.”

That was different since Daddy and Togo hung out together a lot outside. Togo didn’t really like being inside except during thunderstorms.¹ Momma also bonded with him when she would go out and work in the yard and take him on walks. Togo and Daddy would cheer her on from the back porch swing.

Togo and Daddy hanging out on the patio.

Togo would even help Mom with picking up leaves.

Togo preparing leaves for disposal.

And he really liked to tell Daddy spooky stories at night under a full moon.

Togo under the full moon.

I’m bringing a more balanced approach to the Casa. Most mornings, after our walk, I want to become one with nature. So I patrol the backyard. I have, thus far, identified and catalogued more than 100 places for snoozing. And I frequently host chat sessions with Murphy and Millie, my next door neighbor dogs. And Sammy the Squirrel, although he does almost all of the talking.

But I spend most of my time inside. Because, you see, some weeks are harder than others. And Daddy and Momma just need someone to sit close by.

Rest in peace, Togo. Thanks for the legend and the memories.

1. At least, not until Togo’s last months. Togo was never housebroken. So each night, Jeremy, Momma, and Daddy took turns sleeping close to Togo in case he wanted to go outside.