No surprise it was a small squishy dog that tugged at my heart.

This past weekend I was in West Palm Beach to visit my Aunt Lois and attend the memorial service for my Uncle Sandy. My Dad’s kid brother, he was the last link to my father’s generation, and I am filled with such gratitude to have had him in my life for so long.

The day after the service, I went to see Aunt Lois.

As I looked around her tastefully appointed apartment filled with beautiful art and objects, my eye immediately went to a singular little stuffed animal sitting on top of a pillow on their bed. This was Uncle Sandy’s toy dog, a gift he received when he was hospitalized.  He named the dog “Wahoo,” the college cheer from his school University of Virginia.

Like my mother’s stuffed animal named Stanley who accompanied her from rehab to the hospital, this other little dog Wahoo kept my uncle company on his last journey in hospice.

As both the daughter and niece of proud graduates of the University of Virginia I heard their alma mater cheer “wahoo” and “wahoo wa” uttered my entire life.

As a child, I would sink into a plush club chair in my grandparents’ living room with my glass of Ginger Ale and watch these two bespectacled brothers in front of the black and white TV as they watched the blue and orange U of VA football team. On a good afternoon, there would be plenty of “wahoos” uttered during the game, an expression of joy I picked up by the time I was a toddler.

Now I held onto this mushy little dog in Florida with a name so meaningful to my uncle, that it brought tears to my eyes.

Though I couldn’t hug my uncle, I could hold this cuddly dog close. That was a real wahoo moment.