I loved my dog, Teddy, as much as anyone has loved a dog. He was on death’s doorstep when my dad found him. A stray pup about 3 months old, with a bum leg, baking in the high desert Arizona sun; dehydrated, malnourished and helplessly laying on his side, unable to muster the strength to get up. I was 22.
I’m 37 now. So many people and places have come and gone since then, but not Teddy. He’s never left my side. So many thousands of miles traveled together, literally and figuratively. Now he’s lying on the floor, once again unable to muster the strength to get up. His arthritic spine finally gave out on a walk yesterday. We moved again six months ago, and I haven’t found a new vet, so I’m making phone calls in between bouts of tears and snot, trying to find somewhere to take him to say goodbye forever. I’ll never forget him. I’ll always be grateful for him. I’ll be ok without him, even though it doesn’t feel like it. I feel as alone as I’ve ever felt but I know that will pass. I feel numb to the idea of doing anything other than wallowing in my grief, but I know, that too, will pass. I know that because of the experience and lessons I learned with him by my side. It doesn’t really comfort me. Every day that passes I feel slightly more calloused. Slightly less vulnerable to the despair and pain of the world, and with that, slightly less open to the full vulnerability of love and hope. It sounds dramatic but I think it’s just life. When you’re a young sheltered white guy with an easy life, it’s easy to feel that the world is on a slow but steady upward trajectory. Now I know it meanders chaotically with little reason, like a kite in a storm. Whatever this means, I just know that I’ll never love anything the way I loved him. It will be different. Not necessarily worse or lessened, but different. I am bereft.
I love you teddy bear. Thank you for everything.
You nailed the gamut of emotions perfectly, thrill. Sorry for your loss.
It is. Though the inevitability of endings is unavoidably excruciating, sharing your life with others it what gives it meaning. Being open to that is scary because the stakes are real. But that’s also what makes it so important.
So sorry about Teddy. It sucks so much.
I imagine you’ve already taken care of this, but there are likely at home options in your area to say goodbye, which is what we did and can recommend as slightly less traumatic. Also, think about whether you want a million photos of Teddy to be shown to you randomly on your phone in the days ahead.
It’s done. I found a home care option. He went very sweetly and peacefully. He had no desire to hold on so helplessly. Held him in my arms and said goodbye.
I am able to think about Teddy and smile instead of crying. Thanks for the condolences, fam. I posted here before telling really anyone other than my boss because I just wasn't able to talk about it and everyone who loves me knew losing him would wreck me so they would want to call and check in and all that. I needed an outlet and to read some kind responses until I was ready to open up to family and friends and you guys came through.
Looking forward to having a young dog again. Teddy has been fairly retired from strenuous adventuring for 5-6 years now due to his arthritic spine. I'm looking for a big, dumb, happy lab puppy or something like that to go on adventures with and take to the beach.
It's been about 15 months since our beagle, Duncan, passed away. Our family has talked for a long while now about getting a new pet, once we were ready and some travel we had planned was past. Well, we went and did it this week. Meet Paprika, our new puppy. She's a beagle/pomeranian mix.
Don't be fooled by this angelic picture. She's also a puppy terror. We have to figure out how to control her biting/nipping because it's getting pretty intense. But also, she's adorable, and for a 9 week old pup just separated from her mom and litter mates, she's actually sleeping well at night (one wakeup to go potty).
