We had to say good-bye to him back in June, so it's been nearly ten months without him and...god. There's not a day that's gone by where I haven't thought about him or missed him.

I remember last year, when I was scared the end was approaching, I spent all of the 9th celebrating him and his birthday. Took the day off, got him a little cake for dogs, ice cream, lots of new toys, and just spent the day showering him with love and attention.

I like to think he appreciated it.

This is soon after we'd adopted him, a few months into the pandemic/shut down. He was so tiny and so cuddly.

God I miss his tiny little face and the way he'd curl up against the small of my back at night. He was little, but most nights I was hanging off the bed because he kept on pushing himself more and more into me.

I'd give anything to have that from him again.

I hope he knew how loved he was. I hope he felt cared for and safe, and I hope, despite the end, I hope he was happy.