Monday, May 27, 2013


I wrote this in the morning this past Wednesday. An overwhelming sense to remember this and to write this happened, and for a reason I will never know.
Later on this same Wednesday, my parents called to tell me that Theo had to be put down due to a tumor that had ruptured. Maybe I knew. Call it instinct, or what you will. But I know deep down I was unknowingly given time to write my goodbye in a way to my dog.
This is the story of how I found my poodle.

Theodore Rossignol. Theo. Boo-Bear. Theo Bear. Moop. Best Dog. The Poodle.

I am sure some of you have caught on to my rather unhealthy love of poodles. I have always grown up with a dog around. Starting with my parents old English Sheepdog, Mandie. Beau was our first poodle. A black standard that was a renegade and defiant guy. Beau's passing was really hard, and I pushed pretty hard to get another poodle.

I don't know how it all came to be. I believe my mom was just keeping her eyes out for poodles in the paper, but soon enough we had scheduled to have a breeder come over with two of her remaining puppies in the most recent litter from her mom-poodle, Aurora. I remember being super excited to meet the little guys, but my mom reminded me that it wasn't for sure we would buy one, or that we would even like one of the two. (yea...right.)

It was an afternoon, the door bell rang, and in bounded a furtacular poofy white poodle. In tow were two teeny tiny little poodles. In turn we were introduced to "Meanabugger" & "White-y". We sat on the hardwood floor in our kitchen, trying to pet each one as they scampered about exploring and sliding all over the hardwood floor. Aurora just kind of sat and watched, posing like the regal dog that she was.

Meanabugger was apparently the trouble maker, the one who picked on the other puppies and kind of threw his (metaphorical & physical) weight around. White-y was rambunctious. He sniffed my hand tentatively, and then gave it a tiny little poodle lick. Watching him as he trucked off into our "green room" (It had teal carpet and teal couches, so it really was the green room) to try to pee on our carpet, I knew it was love, and I knew he was mine.

Again, my memory on the logistics is fuzzy, but the poodles got packed up to leave, we said we would call the breeder later and then we watched the walk out the their car. Deep down, I was already scared I would never see White-y again. I don't remember if my dad had come home and met the poodles, or if we told him about them later. Regardless, I remember we talked about it that night, and the next I knew. We had bought White-y had to wait a few weeks before he could be hand delivered to the house.

When he showed up, he was as cute as I had remembered. All white, with little patches of cream behind his ears and a slightly darker cream stripe starting to show down his back. He had the blackest little nose, and dark dark chocolate brown eyes. He was tiny. He could rest on my arm and not span from my hand to my elbow. He would sleep curled up in your arms, and he loved to be flipped on his back in your lap to get his tummy rubbed (later to be coined "floppy dog").

Theo is the best. A lover of pancakes. His ability to stealth attack food in the kitchen by retracting his toenails. Needing to be pet just about every waking moment of his day. His lazy saunter to go outside. His baths with dad. His morning routine with mom. The plethora of biscuits we give him. His love of the squirrel treats I bring from DC. His glee for opening his Christmas stocking. His desire to protect "the ranch" from every deer, squirrel, fox and quail that roams our yard. His impassioned quest to kill the garbage and fedex truck. His long legged graceful takeover of the chairs and couches. His regal personality, and celebrity like status at the dog wash. His funny sleep positions. His lazy ways of resting his head on the bottoms of chairs or tables. His perfect "sit" posture. And the million other Theo-things that make him the best dog.

He was so little. Now he is so big. He has been a constant source of love and an addition to our family that is irreplaceable.

I love you Theo!

It's been a hard few days. I've lost pets before. Dogs, numerous fish, and it is always hard to find yourself with them at the end of the day. Dogs are so dependent on you, and the bonds of unspoken love weave their way through your heart. My heart broke learning that I would never see my Theodore again. I am heartsick and sad and a million other emotions that I know will fade with time.
I know I will never forget what a special dog Theo was, and how much I truly loved him.
Luckily, after a childhood full of watching "All Dogs go to Heaven", I am fully convinced that my "best dog" is eating pancakes galore in pup heaven.
Theo, your humans will always miss you and will always love you. Thank you for your unconditional love and plethora of memories. We love you Theo dog!
One of his first baths. He always sat so goofy when I would hold him. He also had the longest legs that you could see even when he was a tiny puppy!
He ran with gusto. I am pretty sure this was when we were cutting a Christmas Tree in Sun Valley. Someone had clearly told him they had a treat for him.
Sometimes we let his hair grow out a bit....
The pinkest little ears. Fuzzy fur. Soft as could be. With the cutest little black nose.
So little he could almost crawl inside his food bowl.
Wind whipping through his fur as he rode in the front of the boat in CDA, back in summers past.
(apologies for the photos of photos and bad quality!)

1 comment:

  1. Oh what a cute, handsome, great dog! I loved reading your story about Theo. I'm so sorry for your loss. He is definitely in Doggie Heaven eating pancakes and frolicking about forever. *Hugs*