A good friend of mine died recently. He was a black-haired, gentle-souled miniature poodle named Teddy and I miss him very much. I hadn’t seen him in a while, but just knowing that he was still there, still climbing through his doggy door and sleeping on his Mommy’s lap, was reassuring and made the world feel whole.
He was fifteen and a half, I think, two and a half years older than Cricket, my cocker spaniel/miniature poodle mix, who adored him from the get-go. He was long-legged and skinny, with hair that quickly covered his eyes between grooming session. He could leap like a ballet dancer, pointed toes and all, or just race full steam ahead to play with a toy. He was full of joy, and love, and seriousness. He was a gentleman, in the way he held himself and in the boundaries he set around himself. If he could have spoken, he would have had a faint French accent, nothing too broad, more like the head waiter at a high-end restaurant.
Over the past few years he grew blind and deaf, relying on his younger sister to alert him to noises he needed to respond to, and by the end, to alert him to meal time as well. He had been slowing down for a while, but took great joy in his resurgence on CBD oil, it gave him a zest for life and an appetite and the energy to be his athletic self once again. But his final illness came on quickly, shutting down his kidneys. Treatment only relieved his symptoms temporarily, and when the symptoms inevitably returned he was even more confused than before, and unable to feel like his true self. When he stopped eating, his sister stopped eating too, to keep him company, to express her grief at what she instinctively knew was coming, and because when your loved ones are in pain, you feel the pain too.
He died with dignity, in a way we don’t often allow our human loved ones to do, surrounded by love and by the knowledge that he had lived a full life, a generous life, and a satisfying life. I imagine that when he crossed the rainbow bridge he did a few leaps and arabesques and then raced towards his two golden sisters who were waiting for him on the other side. He would have had so much to tell them about the world they’d left behind, and they would have had so much to tell him about what comes after.
We tend to think that our role models and teachers will be human, but Teddy was one of my best teachers, and he was truly, and fully, a dog, in the best possible way.
Teddy was my therapy dog. Not only because he was my therapist’s dog, but because he offered his own version of therapy: a nonverbal, relationship-based therapeutic technique that they don’t teach in school. He modeled for me how to respect your own emotions and your own boundaries even while reaching out to others. He modeled how to be fully yourself and respectful of others at the same time. He, like Cricket, taught me that there is no shame in speaking up when you feel strongly about something. And that there is honor and strength in accepting your own limitations and not forcing yourself into situations where you don’t feel safe.
He was a picky little man, with specific tastes in food and people and dog friends, and he chose me. He trusted me, and I felt the honor of that deeply. Teddy taught me that it’s not arrogant or selfish to hold your own views, or to love only who you love. He showed me that you can have those preferences, and know yourself, while still being respectful and polite to those who don’t fit for you – unless they scare you or piss you off, and then you can scream.
He showed me that you can express your fear and pain, and if you express it fully and truthfully, there is then room for other feelings to come in. He taught me that there is no shame in asking for affection when you need it, and he taught me that there are people, and dogs, who will be honored that you’ve asked for their affection.
His acceptance of me, his love for me, and his trust of me, was healing on a very deep level. He reflected me back to myself as I really am. He told me that I am kind, I am trustworthy, and I am loveable. And I believed it, from him. I think the fact that he could never communicate in words, which are my stock in trade, also played a role. He reached the parts of me that can’t speak and they heard him and felt comforted by him.
I know there were times when it wasn’t easy being Teddy. There were a limited number of people that made him feel comfortable, and when he couldn’t be with those people he suffered. I can relate to that, completely.
He stayed with me a couple of times, in the period after Butterfly died and before Ellie arrived, and after a short period of vocal grief and longing for his Mom, he settled in with us. He set his boundaries with Cricket early on, and she respected those boundaries, and appreciated his respect for her space too. They went on walks together, and ate dinner together and took naps together peacefully, as long as I was there to referee. By the time he had to leave Cricket was forlorn, sleeping in his makeshift bed until the scent of him dissipated.
The most important lesson I learned from Teddy is that love is a gift. His love for me was a gift. And the love I felt for him in return made me feel strong enough to raise Cricket with love, and then Butterfly, and now Ellie. He taught me that having enough of what you need makes you feel like you are enough.
Dogs, maybe because they live such short lives, focus in on the most important things: love, food, joy, and safety. They don’t get distracted by appearances or wear the masks we humans wear to get through our days.
I will miss Teddy, but I will also keep Teddy with me, as part of me, for the rest of my life, as a guide, and as a source of energy for the lessons I still want and need to learn.
Goodbye, my friend. May you feel all of the love you have inspired throughout your short life, and find peace and community on the other side.
If you haven’t had a chance yet, please check out my Young Adult novel, Yeshiva Girl, on Amazon. And if you feel called to write a review of the book, on Amazon, or anywhere else, I’d be honored.
Yeshiva Girl is about a Jewish teenager on Long Island, named Isabel, though her father calls her Jezebel. Her father has been accused of inappropriate sexual behavior with one of his students, which he denies, but Izzy implicitly believes it’s true. As a result of his problems, her father sends her to a co-ed Orthodox yeshiva for tenth grade, out of the blue, and Izzy and her mother can’t figure out how to prevent it. At Yeshiva, though, Izzy finds that religious people are much more complicated than she had expected. Some, like her father, may use religion as a place to hide, but others search for and find comfort, and community, and even enlightenment. The question is, what will Izzy find?
rachelmankowitz 
Sending hugs ❤️
Receiving them! Thank you!
So sorry for your loss. This is sad and also beautiful. You brought me to tears and let me share the love you had for this sweet dog.
That was my hope. Thank you! He was very special!
I’m very sorry that you have lost a friend.
Thank you!
So sorry to hear. Our pets are a family member and the loss is just as hard.
Thank you!
Beautiful tribute to Teddy.
Thank you!
Rachel–this is such a beautiful and loving tribute to Teddy. Rest in peace, little one.
Thank you!
Beautifully written, and a wonderful tribute to Teddy.
Thank you!
What a wonderful tribute. I understand your grief and pain. Sending virtual hugs.
Thank you! Hugs received!
You are welcome. Fur babies are such important parts of our lives.
I like that. I think I will steal it. LOL
I’m so sorry for the loss of your friend. Teddy was very special and a great blessing. Thank you for sharing such a beautiful tribute! ♥️
Thank you for reading!
You’re welcome! ♥️
So sad and yet I am glad he had a great life with you all. Thoughts are with you.
Thank you!
Dogs are the best, aren’t they?
I’m so sorry you’ve lost Teddy. Clearly his gifts to you were many, profound, and life-affirming, as you’ve so eloquently shared in this post. How fortunate to have his lessons be a part of your life for as long as they were.
Virtual hugs to you, your mom, Cricket and Ellie.
Thank you! Dogs are wonderful!
So sorry for your loss. I know just how much our canine companions impact our lives. They love unconditionally. Petting them helps us relax and focus.
You have given us all a glimpse of the soul your friend possessed. May his crossing the rainbow bridge give him peace.
Thank you!
So sorry for this loss. It is so hard when they have to go. But you gave him the gift of goodbye with a safe farewell surrounded by love and support. Your post is a wonderful tribute to Teddy. What a terrific dog he was! I feel like I knew him.
Thank you! That was my hope!
Beautiful tribute. I think all dogs are therapy dogs. I remember my grandmother’s dog (now mine) Ginger on the day we had to have the hard conversation about Grandma needing to stay in long term care. Ginger sat pressed against Grandma’s leg. I know it helped, both of us, to have her there.
Thank you! Dogs are very special.
Rachel I am sorry for the loss of your friend but grateful for all you and he shared which you will never lose. I remember a couple of blog posts when he stayed with you and the girls. Requiescat in pace, Teddy.
Thank you! He was a beautiful soul!
awww 😥❤
Very touching story about a lovely, lovely Child of Nature. Peace to him now that he is chumming around with Butterfly once more…. Very touching indeed.
Thank you!
Sorry for your loss, Rachel. What a wonderful doggy.
Thank you!
As, I’m so sorrt
Thank you!
Sending hugs! ❤️
Thank you!
Sending hugs ❤️
I can relate so well. My Tide is 13 and living out his last days. I’m just trying to make him comfortable now. He’s going to leave a huge void. Im so sorry for the loss of Teddy. Such precious companions!
I’m so sorry Tide isn’t well. My heart hurts for you.
And mine for you, thank you Rachel.
A beautiful tribute to a special friend.
Thank you!
It always hurts, the loss of a good friend. May we always remember the joy of being together.
Thank you!
Happy Birthday to your new life, Teddy!
I hope that’s what it’s like on the other side: parties and friends and joy!
Big ((HUGS)). This is beautiful, eloquent, and deeply profound. I read every word with my heart. ❤❤❤
Thank you so much!
I’m sorry for your loss. Beautifully poignant homage. ❤️🐾
Thank you!!!!
So sorry to hear your loss. You wrote such a beautiful post. The whole article shows your love, care and compassion for your buddy.
Thank you so much!
So sorry about your friend. That is a lovely tribute. I remember when he was visiting you.
Thank you!
It is always sad to lose a friend and a pet at that.
It really is! Thank you!
Oh, Rachel, I’m so sorry. I know how that is. We have two dogs as well and one is VERY old, totally deaf and sliding down the slippery slope. I feel so bad for you. Our pets love us so much and we love them even more, so it’s very hard to let them go. Your post has me sniffing and blinking a lot.
I’m glad you had the love of your Teddy. I’m sure you gave him a good life.
Thank you! He was a blessing in my life.
You’ll be thinking of him for a long time to come. Sweet memories.
Very sweet.
Oh Teddy. Find my Max, he will show you where the party is, where the best food is, and introduce you to all his buddies so you’ll feel safe.
I’m so sorry, Rachel – losing a dog you love shatters your heart.
Thank you!
SAD
Very sorry for your loss. What a beautiful tribute you’ve written to Teddy. It’s clear how loved he was.
Thank you!
What a beautiful account of your friend Teddy. Rachel, you are so gifted.
Thank you so much!
SO SO sorry!
Thank you!
A magnificent tribute! The last 18 months has seen a lot of dogs go out of our lives, including our wonderful Honey. I feel your hurt.
Terry and Dianne (Down Under)
Thank you so much! Dogs have such power to reach our hearts!
That’s a beautiful homage Rachel. So sorry for your loss. 🤗 🤗 🤗
Thank you!
I’m very sorry to read about the death of Teddy. It sounds like he lived a full life and helped many people including you.
He loved his work!
I could really feel the pain he has left you with and wish you overcome that very soon.
Thank you!
You are welcome!
You are welcome!
Beautifully written Rachel x
Thank you!
Very moving. You put it all so wonderfully into words.
Thank you!
I’m sorry for your loss. He looked like a wonderful friend and now he will live in all our hearts ❤
Thank you!
Sniff. We have leaky eyes here.
I’m sorry, but I also love that Teddy’s memory is filling the world with love.
A lovely tribute to a handsome dog.
Thank you!
A beautiful tribute, beautifully written. Teddy sounds like a very special little man.
Thank you!!!!
Lovely post to a sweet dog Rachel. They leave a huge hole in our lives when they pass away, even when they are not actually ours.
It’s true! Their hearts are so big!
They are. They love us unconditionally.
They do!
So sad to hear about Teddy. He was well-loved, and had a good long life. None of us can ask for anything more, whether canine or human.
Best wishes, Pete.
You’re so right!
So sorry for the loss of your true companion — you write beautifully, good luck!
Thank you!!!!
“We have a word for everything except for what we really think and feel.”
– Saul Bellow
Bellow’s words notwithstanding, I offer sympathies. As one who feels that dogs are the most noble creatures in the universe, the loss of a canine companion is most woeful.
Thank you!