A heart-shattering silence has fallen over our home, and my soul aches with a grief I never knew I could feel. The emptiness where her familiar, gentle snores once filled the closet is a cruel and constant reminder that my beloved Toony has gone. I remember that day, long ago, when I saw a small ad for potbellied piglets. I was a new business owner, a busy woman searching for a companion to light up a lonely store, a gentle soul to soothe the quiet spaces in my heart.
Petunia, my Toony, was so much more than a mascot; she was the missing piece of our family. She was a loyal, lovable and loving companion who chose to sleep tucked away in the closet, her soft snores a lullaby to our weary day. People traveled for miles just to catch a glimpse of our sweet Toony in our pet store. And as they fell in love with her, my heart swelled with a hope that they would understand what I had learned—the painful truth that an exotic pet is a huge, life-altering commitment.
So many people were cruelly deceived by the term “mini pig,” not knowing the immense size they would grow to be. They didn’t know about the frequent, difficult hoof trims, or the expense of a professional—because a dog groomer can’t trim a pig’s hooves. They didn’t see the ramps we built, the enclosures we had to create, the way we had to change our home for her safety and freedom. We made those changes willingly, but I was saddened for all the people who couldn’t, or wouldn’t do the same.
Toony came into a home with two senior dogs and a pair of unimpressed cats, but her spirit was so pure and loving that she won them all over. My dogs, very curious at first, soon saw Toony as one of their own, and she, in turn, learned to behave just like them.
Every day, for years, we would make the journey to the store, just Toony and me. She’d stop traffic, a gentle, dignified saunter in her custom harness and leash, on her way to greet the adoring store customers. We lived this beautiful, simple life together, a happy time for both of us, until the day I realized she was too big for it. Her vision was poor, a sad reality for many potbellies, and this made the eager hands of her fans a terrifying threat. The decision to stop bringing her to the store shattered my heart into a thousand pieces, but her well-being was all that mattered.
Toony’s picture remains in our store window, PetValu, a permanent tribute to a love that changed everything. Our social media overflowed with stories and photos of her happy retirement, her joyful face a reminder that we all deserve a chance to rest and be loved. Now, our hearts ache, voided by where her incredible presence once was. Yet, her memory be with us forever, joyful memories which she has gifted us. We’ve been overwhelmed by the memories our customers have shared, in every single one, Toony lives on. She will continue to live on in all our hearts, a testament to the fact that those who are truly loved never really leave us.
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Petunia may be gone, but she’s not forgotten…
