Teddy was a king

Teddy was a king.

He was the most beautiful and gentle animal I have ever known. There are no words I can write to describe how much I loved him, and how much love he spread in the world.

He was truly a mountain dog, and I know in his final moments he was charging up the hill looking for the elk herd. Like always when he found them, he looked at them with wonder for a few moments before throwing his giant head back, and barking like he was king of the hill. The stampede would ensue, and before long, Teddy would be back from the chase.

Sweet doesn’t begin to describe Teddy, who lit up the faces of every single person who ever met him. Yesterday, while he lay in the summer grass outside on the longest day of the year, the little girl from next door came to lay on and hug him. Until the end, he was a most gentle giant.

He climbed mountains, swam in the Pacific Ocean, the Great Lakes, small lakes, and all sorts of rivers. He rode in trucks, convertibles and sports cars, and loved going out to eat.

He loved his pack, and we all loved him.

He was almost exactly seven when he took his last breath. He was my constant companion and friend for a long season of my life and that of my children and stepchildren, who passed from children to young adults under his watch.

Life has its hard days, and dogs always make it better.

He was one of a kind. Beautiful doesn’t do him justice.

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