Yesterday was the three-year anniversary of Sophie's passing, and I've missed her and thought about her every day since. Every year on the anniversary, I've lit the little candle they gave us at the OSU memorial service and said a prayer for her and sent her my loving thoughts. I did so again last night, and this time I had a special message for her. I told her about Teddy and asked her to keep watch for him because he will be joining her sometime kind of soon (too soon). She helped him a lot when I brought a shy Teddy puppy home ten years ago, and she showed him much about confidence and street smarts, and he loved having a smart, funny good-natured older sister. I told her that she could help him again when it comes time for Teddy to make his transition. She can show him where the bunnies hide in Heaven and how to find the hamburger trees and the softest pillows. He will love having her guidance again, and she will be delighted to remind him just how smart she is. I hope she heard me...

I miss her still, and I will love her forever.

I was going to post this photo of Teddy about three or four weeks ago when I noticed his first whisker starting to grow back in after he lost all his whiskers during his doxorubicin chemotherapy. I was so sad when he lost his last whisker...it was a really long one. He showed up at OSU for an exam or chemo or something, and when he came out to go home, his last whisker was gone. But now he has a new long whisker coming in, as well as some smaller ones near his nose. Whiskers are adorable, so I'm glad they're growing back. Have a look:

So, that's the good news. There's bad news, too. Really bad news. He didn't feel well on Tuesday, so we went to OSU. They did some tests, and in the ultrasound they found more masses in his abdomen, which is probably what was responsible for causing his tummy upset. He is going back on Friday for some tests to see if it is okay to start him on a new chemotherapy drug. It's pretty much all that is left to try. My heart breaks every time I look at him now, and I can't stop telling him what good boy he is and how much I love him. If you see someone walking a golden retriever around the neighborhood with a handful of Kleenex, sobbing, it's probably me.