The Doctor Said Teddy Doesn’t Have Cancer ❤
Today, for the first time in weeks, I can finally breathe again. I can finally unclench the fear that has been wrapped around my heart. After countless tests, sleepless nights, and whispered prayers, the doctor walked into the room with the news we had been begging God to hear: Teddy does not have cancer. ❤
The moment those words left the doctor’s mouth, it felt like the entire world paused. My chest loosened. My eyes filled instantly. And all I could think about was how terrified I had been of losing him. These last few days have felt like living inside a storm—waves of worry crashing again and again with no calm in sight. Teddy’s weakness… his quietness… the hospital stay… every sign pointed toward something we were terrified to face. When the word cancer first came up, even as just a possibility, it was like the ground fell out from under me.
Because Teddy isn’t “just a dog.” He is family. He is a heartbeat, a companion, a comfort, and a source of joy bigger than anything we could explain. He’s the smile behind our mornings and the softness that makes our nights feel safe. Imagining life without him was unbearable—but today, that fear has finally been lifted.
The doctor explained that while Teddy had troubling symptoms, the tests they ran ruled out all cancer-related conditions. Instead, he was dealing with inflammation, stress, and an infection that made his body weak and his spirit dim. Treatable. Manageable. Curable. Words that felt like miracles after days of fear.
When I walked back into the room to see Teddy after receiving the results, everything hit me at once. He lifted his head slowly, and even though he was still tired, his eyes had that tiny spark again—the spark we know so well. I held his face gently, and I swear he knew. Animals always know. He leaned into my hands, closed his eyes, and let out the softest sigh. It was the sound of relief. The sound of peace. The sound of a battle won.
The past weeks taught me just how deeply Teddy is loved—not only by us, but by all of you who follow his jou
rney, who cheer for him, who send prayers and messages full of kindness. Every word you sent felt like a hand on our shoulder, keeping us from falling apart. And I truly believe your love helped carry Teddy through the fear, through the tests, and into this moment of hope.
We still have treatment ahead. He’ll be on medication, he’ll need rest, and we’ll have to take things step by step. But the mountain we feared the most isn’t in front of us anymore. We’re walking a gentler road now—a road that leads back home, back to healing, back to the joy and playfulness Teddy brings wherever he goes.
Tonight, our home feels different. Brighter. Lighter. Like the universe handed us a second chance wrapped in gratitude. I can already picture the day Teddy returns home wagging his tail, demanding cuddles, and reclaiming his favorite spot on the couch. That day is coming soon. And when it comes, it will feel like the sun rising after the longest, darkest night.
Thank you, truly, for loving him with us. For praying with us. For hoping with us. Today we celebrate a miracle, a relief, and a blessing beyond words:
Teddy does NOT have cancer. ❤
Teddy Is in the Hospital for Observation, and Teddy Really Misses You All
Today’s update is one of the hardest I’ve had to write, and my hands are shaking as I type this. Our sweet Teddy is in the hospital. He was admitted for observation after showing symptoms that the vet didn’t want to take any chances with—fatigue, loss of appetite, and a sadness in his eyes that we’ve never seen before. The house feels painfully quiet without him, and every corner seems to echo his absence. It’s incredible how a little heartbeat can fill a whole home with life… and how empty everything feels without it.
When Teddy was taken in, the vets assured us they would run every test necessary to understand what’s going on. They’re monitoring him closely, keeping him warm, comfortable, and safe. I know he’s in the best hands possible, but the truth is… nothing replaces the comfort of having him here with us. Every minute feels longer than the last, and the worry sits heavy on my chest. It’s frightening how quickly things can change—how one small shift in his behavior can turn into a day filled with anxiety and waiting.
Teddy has always been the kind of dog who brings joy effortlessly. His tail wags like a little metronome of happiness, keeping rhythm in our days. His goofy smile greets us every morning. His gentle nudges remind us when it’s time for cuddles. But last night, when he didn’t come running to greet me, when he didn’t finish his dinner, and when he just laid his head quietly on my lap with no spark in his eyes… I knew something was wrong. Dogs speak without words, and Teddy’s silence was louder than anything he could have said.
I stayed by his side at the clinic for as long as I could, brushing his fur, whispering to him that everything will be okay, and reminding him how loved he is. When it was time to leave, he looked back at me with eyes that broke my heart. Even the vet tech mentioned that he kept glancing toward the door after I left—as if he was waiting for me to walk back in. That’s when it hit me… he misses us just as much as we miss him.
The truth is, Teddy doesn’t just belong to me—he belongs to all of you who love him, follow his little adventures, laugh at his mischief, and send him your endless support. He feels that love more than you know. Every time someone comments, shares a story, or sends a prayer, I genuinely believe he feels it. That’s why I’m writing this today… because Teddy needs that love more than ever.
Please keep him in your thoughts. Send him your strength, your prayers, your well-wishes—anything that can surround him with warmth and hope. I truly believe that love has power, and Teddy has always been fueled by the kindness of the people who adore him.
I promise to keep you all updated as the vets share more information. For now, we’re taking things moment by moment, trusting the professionals, and hoping for the best. I dream of the moment when I can walk back into that clinic, see his tail start to wag again, and bring him home where he belongs. Until then, thank you—truly—for being Teddy’s extended family. He misses you all, and so do we. ❤️
