Meet Teddy Bear,
son of Moxy
With Moxy as a dad, there was no doubt that Teddy would come equipped with both dashing good looks and his own brand of eccentricity. Of all the gifts I’ve received from Mox, Ted sits at the top: I get to keep a part of Mox for a little while longer, and Teddy's such a special little guy in his own right. Pure sunshine.
Basically, if the Energizer Bunny and Piglet had a kid, it would be Teddy.
Fun fact : I helped bring Teddy into the world.
As the only breech puppy in Mox and Mandy’s first litter, he needed a little extra assistance coming out paw-first (didn’t I tell you he was special?). So, we have been together from the very beginning.
He just keeps going and going and…
You can take Ted for a five-mile walk, but as soon as you’re home collapsing on the couch, he’s dropped one of his favorite toys in your lap for you to throw. He has no patience for cuddling, hugs, or kisses. He’s a dog on a mission, which is to play. All. The. Time. Even though he’s 15 years old, you’ll still have trouble keeping up with him. And he’s uncompromising: he’ll stare at you nonstop during the most awkward times (like using the bathroom) until you start playing with him again.
It’s true: Ted’s kind of a wuss. A fork clattering on a plate, a bouncing balloon, an oven beeping, more than two people talking in the room…all of these things and more will send him skittering to one of his safe spots. If you happen to get too close (and you’ll want to, because he’s so freaking cute), you’ll be met with the one-two bark-charge combo. Try to keep a straight face while he barks and launches himself at your feet repeatedly—you don’t want to injure his pride. And don’t be fooled—he wants you to think he’s tough, but it’s all just an act. It’s when Teddy’s comfortable with you that you get to see his (true) sweet side.
He’s a sensitive soul.
He’s a simple little guy.
Mr. Bear loves chasing pigeons, squirrels, and his own tail. He seems to take special pride in cleaning my entire face, especially my nose. In keeping with his sweet side, Ted has a sweet tooth: tapioca, cream of wheat, rice pudding, cookies, coconut, graham crackers, and Starbuck’s puppucinos are welcome treats. He loves to perch on my shoulder like a furry parrot. And he enjoys an active, monogamous relationship with his long-term girlfriend, ChiChi (technically a Chihuahua-shaped purse that’s nearly his size), who accompanies him to most places.
My family sometimes refers to him as “Simple Ted.”
Usually, they say this to get a reaction from me, but I admit there’s some truth here. Not because he’s lacking in the IQ department (in fact, he’s a lot like a Tolkien dwarf when it comes to his treats and toys: neither forgiving, nor forgetting), but because he’s so innocent and uncomplicated and such a doggy dog. Happy-go-lucky, easily pleased and easily distracted, curious and high-spirited, Teddy imbues my days with laughter and joy. And sore muscles.
When Moxy was around, Teddy played the loyal sidekick—the Wilbur to his Charlotte, the Woodstock to his Snoopy, the Piglet to his Pooh.
But in having undivided attention and all the treats to himself the last few years, Ted’s come into his own. He’s the perfect reminder that I’m never too busy to go for a walk, too busy to play, or (most importantly) too busy to throw Pluto. Because of him, I smile and laugh and love every day.
Sometimes the best things in life are simple.
