Teddy misses you all😭seemore

Teddy sits by the door every evening now. His soft brown eyes, usually filled with excitement and mischief, have a different kind of longing in them lately. He perks up at every sound—the rustling of leaves, the engine of a passing car, even the creak of a floorboard—as if he’s waiting for the familiar voices and laughter that used to fill the room. But the house has been quieter lately, and Teddy, in his own gentle way, feels the absence deeply.

You wouldn't think a dog could understand the concept of missing someone, but if you’ve ever loved a dog, you know better. Teddy knows. He remembers the footsteps down the hall, the hands that reached for his ears, the giggles from the children as they tugged at his leash for one more walk around the yard. He remembers belly rubs on the couch and the extra treats sneaked under the table. Those memories live in the way he tilts his head when he hears a familiar name or how he still trots to the window around 4:00 PM, the old time you used to come home.

He’s been carrying one of your old socks around again—his favorite comfort object. We found it tucked into his bed the other morning, and it was clear: Teddy misses you all. Not just in the way he waits or whines softly when the doorbell rings, but in how he leans a little heavier into our hugs now, as if trying to fill a space that only you can.

We’re taking good care of him, promise. Walks, cuddles, playtime—it’s all here. But no matter how much love we give, there’s still that special place in his heart reserved for his people. You’re more than family to Teddy—you’re his whole world. And in his quiet, loyal way, he’s letting you know: he remembers. He loves. He waits.

So when you get a chance, send him a video, a voice note—anything. Say his name. Let him hear you. It would mean everything. Because Teddy’s heart is big, and it holds a space for each of you. No matter how far away you are, he’s here—at the door, ears perked, tail twitching—just waiting. Teddy misses you all, and he always will. 🐾

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Teddy misses you all

  

Teddy Misses You All 

The house has been quieter lately. The floors are a little less muddy, the socks have stayed exactly where we left them, and the kitchen doesn’t echo with the sound of paws sliding across the tile. That’s because Teddy—our golden ray of chaos and joy—isn’t home right now.

Teddy’s been at the vet for observation for a few days. It’s nothing too serious, thank goodness, but enough to keep him away from home. The vet says he’s doing okay—resting, eating, charming the staff with his goofy grin—but I can’t lie: the house just doesn’t feel the same without him. And if Teddy could send a message right now, I know exactly what it would be: “I miss you all.”

This is a dog who lives for his people. He’s the first one up every morning, tail wagging, racing from room to room like he’s checking to make sure we all made it through the night. He flops on feet, nudges elbows, and insists on being in the middle of everything. Folding laundry? Teddy’s in the basket. Watching TV? Teddy’s on the couch—sometimes on your lap. Cooking dinner? Teddy’s underfoot, trying to sneak a carrot.

And now, all that’s missing.

It’s not just us humans who feel it—his toys miss him too. His favorite squeaky raccoon is still sitting by the door, untouched. The living room rug is still ruffled in that exact way he used to twist it up during his pre-nap circles. Even the neighbor’s dog, who usually comes by for fence zoomies at 4 p.m. sharp, has started glancing over with a little more curiosity and a little less excitement.

We’ve been keeping in touch with the vet, and they’ve been wonderful. They say Teddy is being brave and, in typical Teddy fashion, is winning hearts all over the clinic. Apparently, he’s been giving the nurses high fives (okay, paw-fives) and trying to share his kibble with the dog next to him. That’s just who he is—always wanting to be around someone, always wanting to spread joy.

Still, I know he’s wondering where we are. Where the laughter is. Where his favorite blanket went. And I want him to know: we’re still here, buddy. We’re waiting. We miss you, too.

Every little thing reminds us of him. The way the sun hits the backyard in the late afternoon. The sound of someone opening the fridge. Even the jingling of keys by the door—because usually, when that sound hits, Teddy’s already running in circles, thinking it’s walk time.

But the most important sound we miss is his tail thumping happily against the floor, reminding us that joy doesn’t need a reason. It just needs presence.

So Teddy, if you could hear us right now: We miss your face, your fluff, your slobbery kisses. We miss your mischief, your charm, your oversized heart. And we hope you’re getting all the head rubs and treats you deserve.

Get well soon, sweet boy. We’re counting down the minutes until you’re home again—because this house isn’t a home without you.

Teddy misses you all. And we miss him right back.

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