We were always together when I was in BC. We would go for walks. Sometimes long walks. He hated the hill. Sometimes I was nice and I'd carry him part of the way because he was such a baby.
We would hang out and watch TV or movies. I'd sit on the couch and he'd snuggle up beside me and fall asleep. Sometimes he'd fall asleep on my legs. And other times he'd sprawl out on the back of the couch and fall asleep there.
We'd make dinner together. Well, I would make it. He would eye me closely and follow my every move hoping for even just one little crumb to fall. And if a crumb (or sometimes a lot more since I'm accident-prone) would ever fall, he was right there to take care of it. He would even eat lettuce. His least favourite was when I would eat soup. I would make soup and it was like he could tell that nothing was going to fall. Disgruntled, he would head over to his bed and wait patiently for me to pay attention to him again:
Sometimes we would get hyper together. He would go all crazy and bark while I chased him around the house and blew in his face to make him mad. We would play. And it was really fun. Sometimes we would even play dress-up. Which was his favourite...not:
What I miss the most is brushing his little teeth with his peanut butter toothpaste and then snuggling up together on my bed to go to sleep. Once in a while, he'd get cocky and take up too much room and then try to snap at me when I pushed him out of the way. Those nights he ended up banished to his bed on the floor, in the corner. Those were the bad nights. That happened probably twice in the entire time we were cohabiting. Good nights, I would lay on my side of the bed and he would lay on his. Sometimes we'd spoon. He was always the little spoon. That was my favourite though. Snuggled up on the bed, just chilling. We were there for each other.
I miss that little munchkin, more than he could ever understand.