SAD NEWS: 30 Minutes Ago – Everyone, Teddy Is Sick
Today has been one of the longest, heaviest days we’ve had in a long time. Just 30 minutes ago, we received the news no pet parent ever wants to hear: Teddy is sick, and we’ve had to rush him to the emergency vet. What was supposed to be an ordinary day quickly turned into a blur of fear, phone calls, and quiet prayers whispered into trembling hands.
Right now, Teddy is lying at the clinic with tubes and monitors gently attached to him, and seeing him like this breaks something deep inside. This is the same Teddy who usually bursts through the house like a golden ray of sunshine—tail wagging, eyes sparkling, heart overflowing with love for everyone he meets. But today, that bright energy is dimmed. He’s exhausted, weak, and resting his head on a lap as if trying to tell us, “I’m trying… I just need you with me.”
And we are.
Every second.
The vet team is doing everything they can, running tests, offering fluids, and watching his vitals closely. They’ve assured us he’s in good hands, but that doesn’t make the waiting any easier. If you’ve ever loved a pet, you know this feeling—the mix of fear and hope, the silent pleading for just one more tail wag, one more bark, one more warm nuzzle against your hand.
What hurts the most is seeing Teddy’s gentle brown eyes still full of trust, even though he doesn’t feel well. He’s trying to be strong, the way dogs always do, but you can see the fatigue in the way his chest rises slowly, the way his paws loosen like he’s just too tired to hold himself up. Still, when you whisper his name, his eyes lift just a little—as if to say, “I’m here… don’t leave me.”
And we won’t.
Not for a single moment.
When a dog becomes family—and Teddy has been nothing less—their pain becomes your pain. Their fight becomes your fight. And their recovery becomes the prayer you repeat with every breath. The house already feels different without his happy presence echoing through it. Every corner feels quieter, every room feels a little colder. That’s how deeply he fills this home with life.
But we believe in him.
We believe in his strength.
We believe in the love all of you have always shown him.
So please… if you’re reading this, send up a prayer, a thought, a moment of kindness for Teddy today. Dogs don’t understand sickness the way we do, but they understand love—and I know he can feel every bit of it being sent his way right now.
Get well soon, Teddy. We need you. We’re waiting for you. And we love you more than words can ever say.
Our brave boy Teddy will be going in for surgery soon…
Today has been one of those days that shakes your heart right down to its core. We’ve spent the last hours in a whirlwind of worry, discussions with the vet, and quiet moments holding Teddy close, hoping he can feel every ounce of love we’re trying so hard to pour into him. And now, the moment we’ve been both dreading and praying for is finally here: Teddy is going in for surgery.
It’s impossible to describe how heavy it feels watching someone so gentle, so innocent, and so deeply loved prepare for something like this. Teddy has always been the light of our home—our golden boy who greets every morning with excitement, who brings joy even on our worst days, who curls up at our feet like he’s reminding us that love comes in the form of soft fur and warm snuggles. And now, to see him tired, weak, and fighting so hard just to stay comfortable breaks our hearts in ways we never expected.
But even in his discomfort, Teddy has shown such incredible strength. He’s been calm, trusting, and so unbelievably brave—as if he knows that everyone around him is doing their very best to help him feel better. When the vet gently lifted him earlier, he looked back at us with those big, soulful eyes. Not scared, not panicked—just trusting. As if to say, “I know you’re here. I’m not alone.” That look alone was enough to make us fight back tears.
The doctors have explained everything as clearly and compassionately as possible. They believe the surgery is the best path forward, the step that can help relieve his pain, stabilize his condition, and give him the chance to recover fully. We’re holding tightly onto that hope, clinging to every bit of optimism the medical team has offered. Teddy is in good hands, but as any pet parent knows, that doesn’t make letting go of him—even for a little while—any easier.
The waiting room already feels too quiet, too cold. The clocks seem to move slower. Every sound makes our heart jump. But through all the fear, one thing remains constant: our love for Teddy, and our belief in his strength. He’s a fighter. He always has been. And we’re holding onto the faith that he’ll come through this surgery with that same gentle spirit and warm-hearted spark he brings to everyone he meets.
So please, if you can spare a moment, send a prayer, a warm thought, or a little bit of strength Teddy’s way. These next hours are important. We truly believe that love makes a difference—that he can feel the support surrounding him, even from miles away.
❤️ Stay strong, Teddy. We’re right here waiting for you. We love you more than words can say… and we can’t wait to have you back home, safe in our arms.
