She Showed Me That the World Was Fake — and How to Live a More Adventurous Life
Hopefully, it’s not too late.
“We should get a dog.”
My wife, Ingrid, wasn’t surprised. She smiled, and before she could say anything, I added, “A Weimaraner would be perfect.”
That week, I consulted an old friend — our family vet for over twenty-five years. “We’d like a high-energy dog, strong-willed but loyal and good with young children,” I told him. “Not a circus performer, just a companion who loves long walks and having fun in nature.”
He didn’t hesitate. “A Weimaraner sounds right for you.” He paused. “But go for a female. You’ll need her to follow, not lead.”
And so it was decided. On December 22, 2009, we brought home a tiny, gray Weimaraner with ice-blue eyes and named her Toba — a tribute to a small Japanese harbor town where we had stayed during our honeymoon. Toba wasn’t remarkable as a place, but the inn, located between forests, mountains, and the Pacific Ocean, had an otherworldly magic. It felt right, naming our new friend after that dreamlike retreat.
Her first Christmas was unforgettable.
It was a chaotic dance of training Toba while she trained us in return. She played, ate, and spent hours sleeping on our laps. If we…
