"Give sorrow words. The grief that does not speak whispers the o'er-fraught heart, and bids it break."  -William Shakespeare

Today I am thinking of my precious Teddy Bear, who left us on December 11, 2011.  I have lost loved ones, but somehow, I was not as close to them.  

We had a puppy, Cinnamon Daisy Doolittle, who died suddenly, and I was desperate to try to ease my daughter's pain.  She was only 12 then and very attached to our pup.  After two months of grieving, I decided to look around for another precious angel.  I started going to the Humane Society regularly, although it was heartbreaking to go in and see all the dogs and cats who wanted to be picked.  I got to know the manager and she kept an eye out for a small, furry dog.  

We got a call in January that there was a small furry dog, that someone was already planning to adopt him, but that we could go on a waiting list, in case they changed their minds.  They changed their minds, and we became the lucky parents.  

My daughter, Erica, was not very willing to accept Teddy at first because she was protecting her heart, I knew that.  But, she said he was stinky and looked like a mutt. He was in pretty bad shape when we picked him up.  He was a shih tzu and his hair was long, tangly and dirty.  His front hair was hanging over his eyes.  When we brushed his hair back he took his paw and pushed it back over his face.  He couldn't have a bath for a week because he had been neutered.  

When I took her there for a visit, we went into a little room to wait for Teddy.  When they brought him in, I think he peed for 15 minutes.  I wonder how long he had been waiting to go.  We had a little time to get to know him and he was the sweetest little guy ever.  He was 2 years old and his owner (woman) brought him in stating that her boys would not take care of him, so she wanted to give him up.  

I filled out all the paperwork and off we went.  When they put a leash on Teddy, he grabbed part of it in his teeth and took charge of us, walking us out the front door.  It was adorable.  He also left a little good-bye package on their rug to remember him by.  :-)

We had many wonderful years with Teddy, just one month short of 10 years.  In those years, we had so much fun with him.  He had the sweetest personality.  He did not give kisses too freely.  Once in awhile, if he really missed us, he would walk up and lick our leg.  Just one lick.  We called him different names and terms of endearment through the years.  At first, Erica would call him Mr. Miyagi.  Of course we called him Teddy Bear, Ted, Teddy, and Theodore.  

I always made up songs and sang to him.  There were little ditties when we would get up in the morning and when we would leave, if he could not go.  I sang "He's a good little feller guy-eye" with a lot of emphasis on the y at the end.  If we were leaving and he couldn't go, I sang "We will come back later, Teddy Bear."  He didn't stay home often though, because we took him with us on visits and trips to town.  He loved to go to Granny and Papa's house.  There he would expect special treats from Granny, as well as some of Uncle Patches' food.  Uncle Patches is Granny and Papa's dog, and when they were both younger, they would scrap a lot.  They were both very jealous of the attention each other got.  So, they would tangle up a few times a visit.  As they got older, they would just grumble a bit over if one was trying to get the other's treat, and sometimes if one was trying to get love from the other's parent.  

Sometimes when we were gone, he would knock the bathroom trash over in protest.  When we got back and found it, Erica started making him pick up the trash.  She would hold his paws and pick up each piece and throw it back in the trash.  It was so funny because he did not like picking up the trash.  She would say "Teddy, what did you do?" and he would look down at the floor.  She would say "let's pick up the trash."  She would go to pick him up and he would start growling and run away.  He really wasn't fierce, but Erica had taunted him enough with his toys and playing through the years, that part of his playing was getting riled up and growling.  He also growled and ran away if we asked him if he wanted a bath.  


It is so hard to write about this, it is painful, yet it brings me great joy to remember my sweet boy.  I have a lot more to write, but for now, to be continued...