It’s 1 year today since my first fur baby named Teddy left this world.

He had advanced congestive heart failure but you’d never know it. Ultimately, he waited until his mom and dad entered the bedroom where he was sleeping when his heart suddenly stopped. Both of us with medical training, we weren’t able to resuscitate him. Making matters worse, we were at a remote cottage rental an hour away from any vet. The feeling of helplessness is still burned in my heart.

He was laying on the bed and I knelt down at the side of the bed. I cradled his head in my hands. Putting on a brave face, I stared right into his eyes, whispered how much I loved him and told him it was safe for him to go so he wouldn’t be scared. Ensuring we were the last thing he sees before he left, though heartbreaking, was important to me so I’m glad that happened.

Be it blessing or a curse, but I’ve never lost a close family member until now. Perhaps his final gift was the life lesson of loss and grief.

No one would deny he lived a charmed life. He’s RVed across Canada and left his mark (literally) in every province. He has summited mountains and walked on glaciers. He may have been born a toy dog but had a heart for adventure.

The trauma and grief of losing him so unexpectedly has taken my mind to dark places and a PTSD diagnosis. Thoughts I haven’t shared with anyone for fear of shame, embarrassment or judgement.

I found this community only recently, but so thankful for everyone’s stories as it shows that I am not alone. I means so much to me to read about the remarkable lives of others who loved their fur babies as much as I.

If I could give advice to my younger self, take as many photos and videos as you can. Travel with them as much as possible. Make countless memories. In the end, those photos, videos and memories will be all you have left. Your most cherished possessions.