I am heartbroken and devastated.
On November 4th, 2026, I had to put Teddy to sleep. For over nine years it was just the two of us, Teddy and me, and he was my constant companion. Teddy wasn’t just a dog. He was a loyal friend who loved me unconditionally through thick and thin, just as I loved him.
Teddy had been badly mistreated before I adopted him at 8 or 9 months old. He was terrified of everything when I first brought him home. He was more feral than not. Eventually he learned that truck rides were a good thing, and nothing made him happier than riding with the window down and his nose in the wind.
He was an incredibly smart, sweet boy, and a very sensitive one. I always called myself his PTSD human, because I was the only one he trusted to keep him safe. If I was running late from an appointment, even the friend we walked with every morning had a hard time convincing him to go out and pee.
Teddy’s hair was never the same twice. One minute he’d have short hair, then he’d grow a mane, and then fluffy bloomers! One fall it got so long and shaggy on his body that it looked like he was wearing a coat, but the hair on his legs was still short.
As he got older, new things made him so nervous. He much preferred staying home or walking familiar paths. When we hiked a new trail, the minute I stopped he’d be heading back the way we came, giving me a look that said, “This way, Momma! This way! That way lies danger!”
He also loved taking a cooling dip in the water, whether it was a mountain pond, a river, a lake, or the ocean.
Teddy also loved to run simply for the joy of it. He’d do zoomies all over the yard, then jump into my Japanese irises and spin in place, occasionally digging up said irises. It was a joy to watch.
He slept next to me every single night, him on his side of the bed and me on mine. If I disturbed him, he’d actually let out a groan. He wasn’t one of those overly affectionate dogs that crawl into your lap, but he did love his belly rub time each morning before we got up. He loved his squeaky toys too. He had baskets of them.
He was also the pickiest eater I’ve ever seen. Heartworm chews? Nope. Fish? Nope. Peanut butter? Heck no. But chicken? Every single day, plus the occasional chicken liver, pork, or beef. He loved his neighbors, especially the ones who bought him chicken jerky, since he wouldn’t eat just any treat. We often walked over to see if treats were available that day.
Just two weeks before he died, I took him to the vet because he was a bit gimpy and stiff getting up. They said it was arthritis, which isn’t unusual in a 10-year-old dog. A week later his breathing changed. Back at the vet, they thought it was pneumonia and started him on antibiotics. When he didn’t improve, we went back again on October 30th. At first the vet suspected advanced lymphoma, so I left him there for more tests with my heart in my throat. The biopsy and bloodwork all came back negative for cancer.
Instead, his Valley Fever had come back with a vengeance as disseminated coccidioidomycosis, which means the infection had spread through his body. Fluid had built up around his lungs (pleural effusion). He also had swollen lymph nodes, liver and heart problems, and a high white blood cell count. By the time the vets figured out what was wrong, he was past the point of no return.
That day they drained 200 ml of fluid from around his lungs, but it only helped for a few short hours. I had the ridiculously optimistic notion that if we started him on two different antifungals, I could force him to get better.
But at night, lying by my side as he always had, he struggled desperately for air, and I cried the whole time. By Wednesday morning I knew I couldn’t go on. He was dying, and there was nothing any of us could do.
I think the vet knew it was too late on the 30th. It just took me a few heartbreaking days to come to the same conclusion. I couldn’t let him suffer any longer.
The house is so empty, and so is my life while I adjust to this new now. His side of the bed is empty too, and at night, I still cry.
Rest easy, my sweet boy. You were so loved.
Oh my sweet friend, I still have tears streaming down my face for you. My heart hurts that you are going through this. I hope Teddy is resting easier, and knows he is loved. He will forever be missed.
Love always,
Jenn
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