The Dog That Became Mine

It’s a dog-eat-dog world out there.

Perhaps that’s why, while reviewing this week’s court judgments, one case immediately caught my attention. It involved barking dogs, unhappy neighbors, and a dispute that eventually found its way before the Court of First Instance of Curaçao.

Now, before you think this is going to become another legal lecture, let me assure you that it isn’t. The judgment simply reminded me of someone sleeping a few feet away from my desk as I read it.

Tobio. Our six-year-old Boston Terrier.

As usual, he couldn’t have cared less about neighbor law, nuisance, or court proceedings. He was perfectly content just being close by. That’s one of the things I’ve come to admire most about him. Dogs have an uncanny ability to remind us that sometimes simply being present is enough.

Meet Tobio

Six years ago, Tobio wasn’t supposed to become my dog. My oldest son had fallen in love with Boston Terriers and desperately wanted one. Like many parents, I saw an opportunity.

“If your school results improve,” I told him, “we’ll get the dog.”

It was a deal. To his credit, he held up his end of the bargain. His grades improved, he earned his reward, and I kept my promise. Tobio flew into our home from Cincinnati, Ohio.

At the time, I thought I was buying my son a dog.

Looking back, I realize my son unknowingly gave me one of the greatest gifts I’ve ever received. I don’t think either of us could have imagined that, six years later, Tobio would be the one quietly keeping me company through countless mornings at my desk.

A Gift I Never Expected

Life has a way of quietly changing our routines.

Children grow older. School becomes university. Friends, work, and responsibilities gradually occupy more of their time. The house becomes a little quieter than it once was.

But Tobio never changed his routine.

Most mornings, while I’m writing, he settles beside my desk without making a sound. Every so often he looks up, as if checking that I’m still there, before returning to his nap. Occasionally, he lets out one of those deep, contented sighs that only dog owners truly understand, as if gently reminding me that I’ve spent enough time behind the computer and that a walk would be a far better use of the next half hour.

When I stand up, so does he.

If I head for the door, he’s already waiting, convinced that wherever I’m going is exactly where he belongs.

He’s become my shadow.

Whenever possible, he comes along. In fact, if I have one complaint, it’s not about Tobio at all, it’s that I wish more places were pet-friendly. I’m convinced we’d both enjoy that.

I’ve often wondered who rescued whom. Was Tobio the reward for my son’s hard work?

Or did my son, without either of us realizing it, give me a loyal companion for a stage of life I hadn’t yet reached? I think it’s the latter.

What the Judge Really Said

The case itself was a familiar neighbor dispute. One neighbor complained about barking dogs, unpleasant odors, wastewater flowing from dog kennels onto the adjoining property, and even a disagreement over where the property boundary actually lay.

The judge approached the matter exactly as judges should. Allegations of excessive barking couldn’t be established with sufficient certainty, and the disputed property boundary required a full hearing rather than a summary proceeding. The only issue that was beyond dispute was that wastewater from cleaning the dog kennels flowed onto the neighbor’s property. That, the court held, had to stop.

The legal lesson was straightforward enough. Living next to one another requires tolerance, but it also requires responsibility. Owning a dog doesn’t simply bring joy; it also brings obligations toward those who live around us.

More Than a Dog

That, perhaps, is why this judgment stayed with me. The court reminded dog owners of their responsibilities. Tobio reminds me every single day why those responsibilities are worth embracing.

Tobio doesn’t care whether I’ve had a successful day or a disappointing one.

He don’t ask whether I won the argument, closed the deal, or finished writing the column. He is simply delighted that I have  walked through the front door.

In a world that often feels increasingly hurried, complicated and, yes, sometimes dog-eat-dog, that kind of uncomplicated loyalty is a rare gift.

Perhaps that’s why this week’s judgment lingered with me long after I had finished reading it. Not because of the legal principles it discussed, but because it reminded me to look down beside my desk and appreciate the quiet companion who has been there all along.

Sometimes life’s greatest gifts arrive as someone else’s reward.

Thank you for reading. I hope you’ll join me again next week for another column.

In the meantime, I invite you to visit my website, www.lincolngomez.com, where you’ll find my complete collection of columns and podcasts.

Until next week, take good care of yourselves -and if there’s a loyal companion waiting for you at home, give them an extra pat from me.