Theo wasn't even the dog we initially went to see about one Sunday afternoon at a Petsmart adoption drive 12 years ago.

We went looking at another puppy who we didn't exactly gel with. Shrugging and walking off, we passed by another small pen with a couple of dogs we wanted to pet. One black lab, with one brown and one blue eye, kept fighting to the front of the litter to get our attention. He was wearing this small yellow vest hanging loose on his six-month-old frame. After scratching those still silky soft, oversized puppy ears, the lady helping there asked if we wanted to take him for a walk around the store.

You know, just for fun. No pressure.

After that walk, Theo leaned his whole body on our legs just like my dog growing up; we knew he was meant to join our new family.

One week later, he was living with us in our tiny one-bedroom apartment. Megan and I were a newlywed couple still trying to figure out how to live with each other...and we brought a hyperactive ball of black fur into the mix. It was a learning experience for all three of us, adjusting to each other on multiple fronts. But we made it work, and Theo became our first child.

A Giant Cuddlebug

We loved that dog - and that dog returned our love tenfold. Theo was the third dog I raised in my lifetime, and he was hands down the most loyal and cuddly dog I've ever witnessed. That dog never wanted anything more than to be with Megan and me at all times.

If he had his way, he would have lived half his life sitting on our laps if we let him. Theo wasn't allowed on furniture most of his life but had a way of slowly imposing his will on you. If you were lying on the couch, he'd walk over to you and nudge you to pet him. Then Theo would look at you and put a paw on you. Then inch by inch, he'd gradually put more of his body parts on you - while avoiding eye contact - until he was ultimately lying on you. At that point, you couldn't scold those sweet multi-colored eyes of his. You just had to let it happen...and he knew it.

he first half of Theo's life was him being the center of attention. He was Megan and I's world. He went on trips with us, moved into new homes, and was the ever-ready guard dog.

Then we had kids and got to experience a whole new side of Theo.

Brother Theo

His relationship with the kids brought out a very sweet side of him we didn't know possible. When we first brought Campbell home from the hospital, he'd guard her pack-and-play from the cat getting to her and anyone else who didn't belong.

As Campbell grew older, they grew closer and became best friends.

There was even a season where Campbell was afraid to be alone at night. Theo spent the better part of a year sleeping in Campbell's room by her side, serving as a loyal security blanket for her as she got a whole night of sleep.

Theo posted up next to Cam while she slept during his brief stint as her roommate.

That arrangement ended abruptly one night as a storm broke out; Theo freaked out (he was deathly afraid of storms) and accidentally broke her Elsa mirror. We got a knock on our door at 3 am that night with an angry Campbell holding Theo by the collar, saying, "he sleeps with you all now!" and storming back upstairs to her room. Theo got evicted from Cam's room, but Megan and I were happy to have him back next to us again.

Theo and Ford had a unique relationship that started to blossom in the last year and a half. As Ford grew older, his appreciation for his dog grew with it. The two also became buddies, with Theo giving Ford more attention sometimes than Ford may have wanted.

A Bittersweet Last Year

In March of 2022, Theo ate grapes, and we took him to the ER. While the grapes were a non-issue, we learned he had liver cancer from the scans—a giant tumor. The veterinarian gave us a relatively limited prognosis of only a few months of him being around. In June and July of 2023, Theo was still around, still able to hop in the back of our SUV and go on road trips with us. I wrote at that time about how we were looking at his prognosis as "bonus time" with him, but we had no idea how blessed we would ultimately be with him being around another YEAR longer than expected.

Theo and I going on a walk. Video taken this past December, several months beyond the vet’s initial prognosis.

This past year, Theo spent every night saying goodnight to each kid, curled up at the foot of their beds during storytime. He was my midday walking break buddy during the work week. Most weeknights this last year and a half, I'd turn on a record, open a book to read on the couch, and Theo would pop up next to me and sleep with his head in my lap while I read. It was our special bonding time that I knew was limited and soaked up every minute.

*One of the nights where Theo would sleep with his head in my lap while I read every night on the couch.*

Even when his energy wasn't totally there, you could tell he found every bit of strength he could to physically be next to his family. Or better yet, sitting his big lab frame literally on one of his family members.

The Gut Punch

We spent the Fourth of July holiday with Megan's parents and took Theo with us. That morning of the Fourth, Theo had a great day for a dog. He followed the kids everywhere that morning. He barked at cars. He kept asking to go out but wouldn't potty - he would roll around on his back in the grass like he was a puppy again instead of the 12-year-old cancer-ridden dog he was.

Megan and I loaded up the car that afternoon to take Theo to Charleston for a remote work week while the kids visited with her parents at their home. As I loaded the car with suitcases, Theo jumped up and down excitedly, knowing he was going for a car ride.

Typical Theo.

He had been slowing down for a couple of weeks and losing weight, but the things that made Theo Theo were all still there.

He got his goodbye hugs from Cam and Ford and hopped up in the back of the SUV, enjoying the cool AC and fans we had blasting for him. Then we took off for the three-hour trip to Charleston, scouting out green spaces on Google Maps to take him to throughout our days there.

We got to our Airbnb in Charleston, and I opened the back latch to let Theo out. There was no movement. I realized what happened, but my brain didn't want to believe it. I could barely get the words out to tell Megan, standing at the front of the car, not yet knowing the situation and wondering why I looked so stressed.

Theo went to sleep at some point on the car ride and never woke back up.

We left Meg's parents' place with a tail-wagging happy dog at 1 pm. By 5 pm, we were being handed a clay imprint of Theo's paw by a vet tech in Mount Pleasant, SC.

We had been planning Theo's end of life for over a year. We anticipated deciding to put him down when his life quality ultimately diminished. We had a plan.

But even a year of mentally prepping it for the worst is insufficient when the worst ultimately greets you. The whiplash of how he passed knocked Megan and me down hard.

We knew the day would come but not...like...that. Not that day.

I think Theo defied the odds so much over the last 16 months that we somehow convinced ourselves he wasn't terminal. That he would live forever. Because, of course he would.

Looking back and analyzing the whole situation, it was the best way for him to go. He never whimpered or seemed in pain during that car ride. Megan and I found him - not the kids, a house sitter, or grandparents. He also wasn't alone. He was with his mom and dad, whom he loved more than anything. Megan and I didn't have music blaring during that drive. Bubby heard us talking and laughing near him as he drifted off for the last time.

I talked to a coworker in our Charleston office about what had happened, and he responded with, "The two hardest things in the world I've ever had to do is quit smoking and bury a dog." He's right. Saying goodbye is hard.

We Were So Blessed to Have That Dog

That night after we took his body to the emergency vet to be taken care of, Megan and I sat in the living room of our Airbnb, not knowing what to do. It was weird how a building we'd never been in could feel so empty and quiet.

We spent the night looking at all the old photos of him through the years, laughing and crying at stories about our best friend. Seeing those pictures made us realize how long we had Theo and how big of a part of our lives he was. He was part of every major life milestone of our family for the past 12 years. Megan and I adopted him a few months after getting married and had him through job changes, house changes, and two kids.

We were beyond lucky to have him. I firmly believe he was the best dog our family could have ever had. It only hurts this bad because it was so good for so long. There are so many memories and stories that I can't even begin to fit in one spot.

We are going to miss him sorely. His family loved him so much - but Theo loved his family so much more.

Theo was a good dog.