Toby Book--Chapter 2

This is the next chapter of my book about Toby.  The Introduction and Chapter 1 were posted the last two Wednesdays.  This is copyrighted material.


Chapter 2

     My first days with Toby weren't idyllic.  I was certainly glad to have him, but he wasn't too excited about this new situation.  The moment that Toby set foot in my home he immediately ran and hid under the dining room table.  No amount of persuasion on my part could produce a corgi.
     Toby wouldn't eat, drink or play.  I was disappointed.  I thought that maybe this new relationship might not work out.
     After a couple of days, Toby would venture out from his lair to eat a bite or two or go out to the bathroom.  Sadly, he began demonstrating some behaviors that made me wonder about his past. 
     I noticed that if I walked near him, or if I lifted up my foot, he would cringe as if I was going to kick him.  Once, I picked up a newspaper from off the floor by my Dad's chair, and Toby ran like a flash back under the table and wouldn't come back out until I put the newspaper down.
     About two or three weeks passed, and I can't say that Toby and I made too much progress.  He didn't want to play, and for the most part, he remained firmly encamped under the dining room table.  My folks thought that I should get a puppy instead of this dog.  I wasn't about to do that, and I'm glad that I didn't listen to that piece of advice.
     One afternoon, I decided to clean out the utility room in the back of the house.  Actually, I'd been ordered to get my junk out of there and put it in the garage.  I had several rolls of old string and some old kites that were in disrepair.  At one time, I did a lot of kite flying, but I wasn't into that much anymore.  I grabbed several bundles of string and headed out to the garage.  On my way, the clumsy person that I am, I dropped the whole batch on the dining room floor.
     No sooner had the balls of string hit the floor, a red and white streak flew from underneath the table, grabbed a ball of string and dashed into the living room.  I ran after Toby, and he dropped the string.  I picked up the string, and Toby stood starring at me.  I threw the ball of string across the living room, and Toby tore after it.  He wouldn't bring the string back to me, but if I went and picked it up and threw it, he would chase after it.  By the way, as smart as Toby was, he never got the hang of retrieving.  We played with that old ball of string until we were both falling down tired.
     That time of play changed everything between us.  From that moment on, Toby was my friend for life.  We played together every day.  I bought him an alligator toy that squeaked and we played our version of fetch with that thing until it fell apart.  We went everywhere together.  From that day on, Toby started sleeping right beside my bed every night, and no one had better come in that room while I was asleep.  We became fast friends and never looked back.
     I owe a lot to kite string and patience.