“Teddy’s gone!” I cried. My husband, Gus, pulled me into a hug. We stood, surrounded by shattered glass from our back door. While we were at the gym, someone had broken into our house. We’d searched all of the rooms. The only things missing were our wedding bands and some other jewelry—and our seven-year-old toy poodle, Teddy Pooh Bear. Gus and I didn’t have children, so Teddy was our baby, our little girl. We usually took her everywhere, even to church. But that night, we’d left Teddy at home for just an hour while we went to work
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