Teddy

I have a teddy bear. Well, he’s actually a dog, but his name is officially Teddy Bear. We call him Teddy.

I had been wanting a cuddly lap-dog for quite some time—nearly seven years. I created a Pinterest board with pictures of “my puppy” and listed desired criteria. He had to fit in my lap (or under the seat in an airplane because I imagined traveling with him). He had to be affectionate. I wanted no shedding, so hair, not fur. And he definitely had to be mostly white with coal black eyes and a button nose—something like Frosty the Snowman in that classic Christmas carol. Oh yeah, and he had to be a girl because I didn’t want to deal with that pesky leg humping.

After the first few years of my vocal dog-dreaming, my family became irritated. “Just do it, already,” they pushed, “get a dog!”

I always had the same response, “No, I have a feeling my dog will come to me.”

Flash forward, or rather, long dissolve in film editing terms, to the time I was talking to the hot tub maintenance guy at our new home in Montana. He mentioned that he had a dog like our rescue Buddy and that, in fact, he had several dogs and several kids and that it was often more than he could handle. Aha! I had a captive, benevolent audience. I told him all about my dream dog. Well, cut to the chase (another movie term), their Morkie (half Maltese and half Yorkshire terrier) wasn’t getting enough attention and they were looking to re-home him. Two days later, Teddy met Buddy, and it was love at first sight…well maybe not for Buddy and Teddy, but definitely for Teddy and me.

Teddy’s transition into our home and into my arms was nearly effortless. Yes, he had a few accidents on the rug, and we had to figure out how to feed the two dogs separately, but he belonged immediately. He curled up in my lap. His hair was soft to the touch and he didn’t shed. He wrapped me and the entire family around his little paw. But there was something else, something intangible, that drew me to this lovable ball of fur.

A short while ago, I went rummaging through my mother’s old cedar chest where I stow my keepsakes. In it, I found the stuffed animal I received one Christmas. I don’t have many items from my childhood, so this timeworn mutt is treasured. It comforted me on many dark nights. Do you see the resemblance? Of course, Teddy came to me and belongs to me, because he was already in my heart. He’s perfect.

Yes, I do realize that Teddy is a boy, and that was not on my list of desired criteria. And yes, he does take the occasional ride on my leg. But who, I ask, could ever really get mad at a face like this?