Kissing you goodbye was one of the hardest things I've had to do. You were always full of smiles and brought joy to more people in your short life than I can count. Keep smiling, baby boop. You will always always be in our hearts and your big brother, Tubs, won't forget you either.
Rest easy, baby love
Everyone who knows my French Bulldog, Tubs, knows him for his signature, crooked-tooth smile. Yes, he smiles and it only comes out when he is truly happy [insert "she is crazy" line]. It's true, though (vouch for me, friends). Never has the power and consistency of Tubby's smile been more apparent than in its total absence, this past week.
It has been 9 days since Hamilton died and I have stood by idly, observing as Tubs stares blankly into space. Dogs run up to him and bite his ears, nip his nose, and he stands still as a statue. Tubs' personality disappeared entirely with his brother, and for the last 9 days I've been unable to concentrate myself; honestly tormented by a concern that Tubs may never come back either.
But it's amazing how a single Tubs smile can make everything feel okay again. Tonight Tubs interacted with Remi for the first time (literally, the first time his behavior indicated, even slightly, that he knew she was there). Tonight in typical Tubs fashion, he pounced at Remi and nuzzled her. He stayed close to my ankles, always looping back around, but he actually let her in. In a week I had watched as my little man derailed and became utterly fragile.
There were many tears as I fumbled for my phone and took a blurry shot of this. I don't believe in signs but I know that Hammy was there tonight and he told Tubs it was okay. It's okay.