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.
