Teddy has always been the sunshine in our lives. You know the kind of dog who doesn’t just exist in your home—he fills it? That’s Teddy. From the moment he trotted into our family, eyes wide with wonder and heart bursting with joy, he’s been the golden thread woven through every ordinary day, turning them into something extraordinary.
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He’s the kind of pup who hears a crinkling snack bag from three rooms away, who dances in clumsy circles when you say “walk,” and who believes with every fiber of his being that “fetch” is an Olympic sport he was born to win. But it’s not just his energy. It’s his soul. There’s a gentleness in Teddy, a deep well of love that spills over in the quietest moments—the nudge of his nose when you’re sad, the way he curls up close without needing an invitation, or the sleepy sigh he lets out when you scratch behind his ears just right.
And then, something shifted.
A few weeks ago, we noticed he wasn’t himself. He was still smiling (he always tries to), but the sparkle behind it was dimmer. His usual excitement dulled. The tail wagged slower. He was sleeping more, eating less, and that unspoken bond between us—where you just know something isn’t right—tightened like a knot in our chest. So we took him to the vet, hoping for something minor. A stomach bug, maybe. A pulled muscle. Nothing serious.
But the ultrasound revealed a mass on his spleen.
Hearing those words felt like the world cracked. You don’t expect your bright, bouncing dog to suddenly be the one lying on sterile exam tables, hooked up to machines. You especially don’t expect to hear that awful word murmured with such quiet caution: cancer.
From there, it became a waiting game. Days blurred together as we waited for the biopsy results, pretending to function while our hearts broke silently in the background. Every minute was filled with questions we couldn’t answer. Was he in pain? Were we running out of time? Were we saying goodbye without realizing it?
We wrapped him in soft towels. We let him nap on the couch (pictured above—where he looks far too human, and heartbreakingly fragile). We spoon-fed him his favorite snacks. We whispered that we loved him about a hundred times a day. We held each other and held him tighter. Because when it’s your dog—your best friend—you don’t hold back. You love louder. Deeper.
And then, the call came.
The vet’s voice was calm, almost too calm. And then the words spilled out: “No evidence of cancer.” I had to ask her to repeat it. Then again. The tears came before I could even process what she’d said. No cancer. No cancer.
We sobbed. We laughed. We hugged Teddy like it was the first time and the last time all at once. The relief was indescribable. It was like someone had reached into our lives and gently lifted the crushing weight off our chest. Our boy was still with us. The road ahead wasn’t overrun with sorrow—it had space for joy again.
But let’s be honest: we’re still holding our breath a little. The mass is still there, and it needs to be monitored. Surgery might still be in the cards. This isn’t the end of the journey, but the worst-case scenario—the monster we feared in the dark—isn’t the one we’re fighting today.
Teddy is resting now, healing in that sweet way dogs do—by simply being. He’s snoozing on the couch, wrapped in his robe like a furry little spa guest (see the photo—can you even handle that face?). He looks like he just got back from a doggie wellness retreat. That little thermometer in his mouth is just for laughs, but behind the humor is a very real truth: we were terrified. And we’re so, so grateful to still have him.
We don’t know what comes next, but we know we’ll face it with him. For now, we’re soaking up every moment—the belly rubs, the naps in the sunshine, the soft snores, and yes, even the stolen socks. Because Teddy is still Teddy. Still our sunshine. Still our heart.
So thank you. Thank you for loving him with us. Thank you for your prayers, your kind words, your hope. Teddy felt it. We felt it. And we’ll carry that love with us as we take each next step.
Teddy’s story isn’t over. In fact, we think this is the beginning of a new chapter—one where healing, joy, and love guide every page. 🐾💛
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