Tales of Dale: Ultraman Teo, Senior Dogs, and God’s Care for Animals

A little over a year after my wife and I bought our house, we were blessed with a Border Collie mix named Lucy. She was born in 2009, which means that in 2026, she will have reached the age of seventeen.

Our time with her is probably nearing its end.

Lucy has been a joy to have in our lives. She could live to be twenty or even older, but when I look at her now, I realize that reaching twenty would be a blessing in itself. Her body has become so frail that I can no longer play with her the way I once did. Most of the time, all I can do is pet her. Even then, I sometimes hesitate because I am afraid of hurting her or making her condition worse.

Still, the fact that she is with us at all should remind me how blessed we have been.

If it weren’t for my wife, we probably never would have had Lucy. I grew up with several dogs, and by the time I was an adult, I thought I was perfectly content not to own a pet of my own. Then Lucy came into our lives, and she changed my mind. The love and joy she has given us have also changed the way I think about animals in general.

Because of Lucy, stories about neglected or abused animals affect me more deeply. Some animals are beaten by their owners. Others are forced to fight for entertainment, whether dogs are fighting dogs or roosters are fighting roosters. I have never understood how anyone could take pleasure in causing an animal pain.

Lucy has made me more aware of the responsibility that comes with caring for another living creature. She has also made me think about the many ways people treat animals, both in real life and in fiction. The way we imagine our relationship with animals can reveal something about how we understand power, responsibility, and compassion.

That is one reason I have never cared much for the Pokémon franchise. I understand that Pokémon are fictional creatures, but I have never been comfortable with the basic idea of capturing creatures and making them fight one another. The fictional setting makes the concept less literal, but it does not make it appealing to me. Why would anyone want to mistreat an animal that way, even in a fictional setting?

Of course, there are situations in which people must protect themselves. If an animal becomes a genuine threat to human life, action may be necessary. Animals are also sometimes killed for food, especially when people are hungry. But killing merely for the sake of killing, or hurting an animal for entertainment, is wrong.

The difference between protecting life and causing suffering without necessity also helps explain why another fictional story has resonated with me.

Since July 4 of this year, I have been watching a new series from the Ultramanfranchise through its YouTube channel. The series is called Teo, and it stars Aoi Iwasaki as Teo, an Ultra who lives among humans as Ibuki while attending veterinary school.

During the story, Ibuki encounters an alien creature he names Pucchi. He believes Pucchi is connected to a spaceship he discovers floating in a wooded area. Rather than turn the creature over to the authorities, Ibuki tries to hide and protect it because he fears Pucchi might be captured, mistreated, or killed.

Eventually, Ibuki is joined by a group of young people who form a club. Together, they care for Pucchi and work to keep the creature safe while Ibuki fights mysterious beings that threaten their hometown.

The series is part of the celebration of Ultraman’s sixtieth anniversary. There are aspects I don’t particularly appreciate, but the story of these young people trying to protect Pucchi has been one of the strongest parts of the show for me.

That focus also sets Teo apart from some other entries in the franchise. Earlier Ultraman stories often emphasized ecological concerns and humanity’s effect on the environment. Teo seems more focused on individual animals and on how people treat creatures that are vulnerable or different from themselves.

In that sense, Teo presents a positive alternative to the kind of thinking I see in stories about animal abuse or in the battle-centered premise of Pokémon. The show does not treat Pucchi as a tool, a weapon, or entertainment. It presents him as a living being whose safety matters.

That is what makes the series especially meaningful to me. The show presents compassion as an active responsibility. Ibuki and his friends do not merely feel sorry for Pucchi; they take steps to protect him. Their concern leads them to act, and that idea connects with something the Bible teaches about God’s creation.

The Bible repeatedly shows that animals matter to God. In Genesis, God created the animals and declared His creation good. Adam was also given responsibility for the animals, including naming them. Later, Noah and his family preserved representatives of the animal world through the Flood.

Proverbs 12:10 says:

“A righteous man regardeth the life of his beast…”

Jesus likewise reminded His listeners that God notices even the smallest creatures. 

In Luke 12:6, He said:

“Are not five sparrows sold for two farthings, and not one of them is forgotten before God?”

These passages give a deeper foundation to the concern expressed in Teo. Compassion toward animals is not merely a personal preference or a theme found in fiction. It also aligns with the biblical understanding that God values His creation and expects human beings to act responsibly rather than cruelly. 

That does not mean everyone must own a pet. Not everyone has the time, resources, or living situation necessary to care for an animal. Owning a pet should never be treated as a casual decision.

However, when we choose to bring an animal into our home or onto our property, we accept responsibility for its care. That responsibility is not limited to providing food. It includes offering safety, shelter, medical attention, companionship, and dignity.

That is what we tried to do with Lucy. Throughout her life, we decided that she would be an indoor dog. Part of that decision was practical: we wanted the neighborhood to get some sleep at night! More importantly, though, we believed it was the right thing to do for Lucy and for us.

Some people told me that dogs were made to live outside.

Really?

If dogs are naturally meant to remain outside in every circumstance, why do their wild counterparts, such as wolves and coyotes, seek shelter from the cold, rain, and other dangers? Animals instinctively look for protection. They need food, water, warmth, and safety, just like other living creatures.

Lucy’s life has shown me that caring for an animal is not about convenience. It is about recognizing that the animal depends on us and then honoring that dependence. As she has grown older and more fragile, our responsibility has changed. We can no longer care for her in exactly the same way we did when she was young, but we still care for her just as faithfully.

That change is important. Caring for an animal does not mean giving it only what is easy or enjoyable. When Lucy was young, caring for her included playing with her and taking her on walks. Now that she is elderly, it may mean moving more carefully, giving her more rest, and accepting that quiet companionship has replaced active play. The responsibility remains, even when the relationship changes.

Caring for animals also does not mean ignoring the animals that live outside our homes. We should care for the animals we bring into our families while also respecting the wildlife around us.

If an animal threatens our safety, we should respond responsibly. We can contact local animal control or our state’s wildlife agency and allow trained professionals to handle the situation. If an animal truly must be removed or euthanized, those agencies can determine the appropriate course of action.

Prayerfully, it will not come to that.

As for Lucy, she is now seventeen years old. I know that our time with her will eventually come to an end. I cannot run and play with her as I once did, and I cannot treat her as though she were still the energetic dog she was years ago.

But I can still sit beside her.

I can still pet her.

I can still make sure she knows she is loved.

Those simple acts may seem small, but they reflect the same responsibility shown by Ibuki and his friends in Teo. They are also consistent with the biblical reminder that God does not forget even the smallest creatures. Compassion begins when we recognize the value of another living being, and it continues when we choose to care for that being faithfully.

Perhaps that is one of the most important lessons Lucy has taught me. Animals may not speak our language, but they experience hunger, fear, comfort, affection, and pain. They are part of God’s creation, and when we accept responsibility for one, we should take that responsibility seriously.

So until our time with Lucy is complete, I will continue to be grateful for her.

And I will continue to believe that we should be kind to animals—domestic or wild, the ones living in our homes and the ones living around us.

They are not forgotten by God.

Perhaps they should not be forgotten by us, either.

Thanks for reading.

Love you all.

Later