Dixie

Dixie Teague
August 15, 2011-July 26, 2024

Dixie, also known affectionately as Dixie-pup, Pupper-doods, Pupperoo, and Dixie-doo crossed the rainbow bridge after a well-fought battle with cancer. After being told in March that she only had a few weeks left, she stubbornly hung around for four more months, which was exactly how she lived most of her life.
Never one to back down from a fight, Dixie not only sparred with the family’s cats many times, she took on a raccoon a time or two. Unfortunately, she was not one for the streets, and therefore, never once emerged as the victor.
She also didn’t like to share food, despite never being hungry a day in her spoiled life, nor did she particularly relish baths or pedicures.
Thunder and lightning were her sworn enemies and she upheld her vow to protect her yard from them until the very end. Even after losing most of her hearing and some of her vision, she still managed to know when a can of cat food was being opened or a random dog was walking past her house.
She loved nothing more than a comfy bed, preferably with one of her two human sisters and took her role as their best fur friend seriously. Whether it was stealing a goldfish to make sure it wasn’t poisoned or giving a slobbery kiss to help them wake up, Dixie could always be found by their sides.
Dixie was a pain in the butt, not very social, always hungry, easily alarmed, and full of anxiety, just like her mama.
She was also loyal, loving, funny, and charming, much like her daddy.
When it was decided that the cancer wouldn’t be allowed to cause her any more discomfort, she spent a week being spoiled and checking off items on her Pup-ket list. She enjoyed fast food burgers and sandwiches, going for a walk despite being barely able to, chasing weeds as they were pulled from the ground, creating her very first original painting, enjoying a steak and potato dinner, and probably best of all…finally killing a raccoon. Don’t worry, it didn’t fight back, only squeaked a little before she managed to de-stuff it.
While her atrocious breath will not be missed by anyone, the loss of Dixie’s sweet presence will be noticed by everyone who knew her. She is survived by her mom and dad, human sisters Kaitlyn and Madeline, her fur brother that she never really liked, and more cats than she would care to acknowledge.
The family asks in lieu of flowers (not that they actually expect them), you give your fur baby an extra hug and maybe share some of your food with them, in honor of the dog that always sat with her head in her mom’s lap during dinner time.