Dear Teddy,

This is my first letter to you, but I trust it will find you. I know it will. 

You’ve been on my mind. That’s probably because I recently visited and met with a mini-you. Eight weeks and female, just as you were to be when I heard about you a decade and a half ago.

But you were the last to leave the litter, and when the choice came to get my money back or get you, well, you know what I chose. And I’d do it a million times over.

You were my first puppy in reconstruction. And flipping through memories, I can see it in various stages through recollections of my Golden.

Here is you in that tiny studio above a commercial garage in Westwood. Here is you, at the dog park. Here is you, diving into the pool in Encino. Here is you, trying to keep a squeak toy from Esme by spinning her clockwise, then counterclockwise.

Here is you, holding Esme’s entire head in your mouth. Here is you, offering a ball to Aunt Lessie. Here is you, getting a kiss from Dad.

Here is you.

I tear up when I think about you. And then the right song will hit, and I am a wreck.

Jadie and Charlie worry when I look sad. I wish I could let them know it’s the most beautiful sadness there is; filled, tip to toe, in love.

Because you will always be more than my reconstruction pup. You will always be my second chance, my hand up, my bootstrap incarnate.

Thank you for the rescue. 

Now, if you’re wondering how I know this letter will reach you, it’s because I know exactly where you live, young man:

Theodore Ruxpin Bowles, ℅ my ❤️.