Before Amira was born, I drove a huge eight passenger SUV.
The kind of car that families buy when they expect chaos, luggage, strollers, groceries, and several small humans. But in our case, the vehicle had a very different purpose.
It was for Toby.
He claimed the entire second row as his personal throne.
Every seat was his seat.
Every window was his window.
The middle bench became a poodle lounge.
Then Amira arrived in June 2020, and Stephanie and I made what we thought was a very clever plan.
We figured Toby would enjoy the entire third row all to himself.
We imagined him lounging like royalty in the back, surrounded by his toys, blankets, and whatever poodle essentials he required.
Amira, tiny and fragile, would sit safely in the second row in her baby seat.
Everything made sense on paper.
But Toby never followed paper logic.
The moment we tried encouraging him to go into the third row, he looked at us as if we had committed a crime. He refused to move. He refused to budge. He refused to sit in the back like some kind of peasant.
He made his choice very clear.
He was going to sit with Amira.
And that was that.
So the enormous SUV, purchased with all the best intentions, instantly lost an entire row of seating. The third row became storage for Toby’s supplies. Blankets, water bowl, travel bag, toys, emergency leash, more toys, and whatever else he believed he needed.
Meanwhile Toby climbed into Amira’s row and made it his new kingdom.
At first we worried he might crowd her, or disturb her, or distract her.
But something beautiful happened instead.
Toby bonded with her.
He snuggled into her side of the seat.
He curled up next to her baby seat.
He kept her warm with his big fluffy body.
He let her tiny hands reach over and pet him whenever she got bored or restless.
Sometimes she giggled and he wagged his tail.
Sometimes she babbled and he listened like it was important.
Sometimes he fell asleep so loudly that it sounded like a small engine idling beside her.
But she loved it.
And he loved it even more.
There was something incredibly tender about watching them together.
This big, gentle poodle choosing to protect the smallest member of the family.
This newborn child resting peacefully with her furry guardian nearby.
This giant SUV built for eight people, but truly designed for just those two.
Toby would look over at her every few minutes, checking that she was fine.
Amira would reach out her hand, checking that he was still there.
And I drove, looking in the mirror, seeing something I will never forget.
My daughter and my dog, side by side, already in their own little world.
Classic Toby.