Tobia: My Westie with the Heart of a Lion

Bonjour Fashion Lovers,

It’s been a year since my heart broke.
A year since I said goodbye to Tobia for the last time.
It was a devastating Sunday.

Tobia wasn’t just a Westie. No.

He was a beautiful, joyful, proud presence. One of those souls who don’t ask permission to enter your life—but once they do, they never give it back. They enrich it.

Tobia was my natural alarm clock, my favorite audience, my living white rug, my eloquent silence, my contagious joy.

He was stubborn, the way only the most loyal hearts can be. And he had the courage of those who love without measure or limit.

He was also playful. And full of nicknames. We called him Totino, Toticchio, Houdini (he had a gift for vanishing and reappearing with theatrical grace), Puzza, Puzzecchia, Teddy Bear. Each name revealed a piece of him. Every nickname brought a smile into our home.

Tobia was the symbol of my logo when I launched my event planning agency, and he stood beside me—with his innate sense of style—when I founded my online fashion magazine. Sadly, he was already sick when I began this new journey into the fashion world, so I couldn’t involve him as he deserved. But he’s always present. Ohhh my followers would have adored him!

He loved cheese slices, taralli, and pizza crust. He could hear the fridge open with the intuition of a true gourmand. Every bite he stole was delivered with the grace of a masterful gesture.

He traveled with us everywhere. He wasn’t a dog who adapted—he was a dog who elevated every space he entered. In restaurants, in hotels, in shops… Tobia was a true Lord.

I’ll never forget the ribbon he won at a hotel in Siena during Christmas vacation: Best Dog Guest. We already knew that—it came as no surprise to us.

Our last trip was to Naples. He was already very ill. But he still walked with his proud, composed gait through the cobblestones and voices of the city. Via Chiaia will forever be Tobia’s street. The place where he stayed curious, elegant, entirely himself.

Sadly, I never got to bring him with me to Paris. And I’m certain it would have been his natural habitat.

Tobia was all this—and so much more. And if someone asks me what remains now that he’s gone, I answer:

What remains is the shape of his love: perfect, white, stubborn, full.
What remains is the way he looked at the world—as if he deserved it.
What remains is me, with a broken heart, made larger by his.

I miss you, my wonderful, unique, and incomparable furry love.

Always fashion. Always black. Always Paris.
Emanuela