I didn’t get Toby because I was ready. I got him because I didn’t know what else to do.
Last year, I moved to Newcastle for a fresh start. New job, new apartment, same old anxiety. I’d gone through a pretty rough breakup, the kind that leaves your weekends hollow and your Spotify full of sad playlists. I kept telling myself things would get better once I “settled in.” But the silence in my flat at night said otherwise.
Then one day, my sister sent me a link to a local rescue listing with the words:
“This dog has your name written all over him.”
His name was Toby — a two-year-old black Labrador with the goofiest smile I’d ever seen. His profile said he loved food, people, puddles, and more food. I booked a visit that afternoon.
🎨 Was this story a reminder of your own furry friend?
At Pawstralian, we turn real pet stories into timeless portraits — joyful, silly, loyal, unforgettable.
Whether it’s a memory you never want to forget, or a face that makes you smile every day...
👉 Explore our custom pet portraits and see how your story could look as art.
🐶 View Portrait Styles →When I walked into the shelter yard, he galloped toward me like we were old mates. No hesitation. Just joy. He leaned all his weight against my legs like he was giving me a full-body hug.
I signed the papers on the spot.
What I didn’t expect was how much Toby would reconnect me with everything else. People, places, even myself.
He made me talk to strangers again — other dog owners, baristas, neighbours. He dragged me into parks I wouldn’t have walked into alone. He made me laugh out loud for the first time in months when he fell into a fountain trying to chase a dragonfly. (He was fine. Just soggy and confused.)
But there’s one moment I always come back to.
It was a Wednesday. I’d had a rough day at work, one of those brain-fog, self-doubt kind of days. I came home, dropped my bag, and just sat on the floor, overwhelmed. Toby came over quietly, put his big head in my lap, and let out the softest sigh.
We didn’t move for twenty minutes. He didn’t try to fix anything. He just stayed. Present. Warm. Real.
That’s what he does best.
Toby didn’t solve my problems — he reminded me how to live with them. With muddy paws, nose kisses, and an open heart.
I used to dread coming home to an empty apartment. Now, I look forward to it — because Toby’s always at the door, tail thumping, ready to greet me like I’m the best part of his day.