I find looking at the older pictures don't get me as sad. Bubbles used to love digging in his bed. Eventually he would form his blanket into a little cocoon around him - like a big doggie won ton. This picture - my dad caught him in the starting stages of the digging. He's so cute here. This was when he was about two years old.
I miss him so much. When the moments of sadness come, it feels like my chest just tightens up and the tears just start flowing.
Tomorrow, my parents will probably get the call from the vet that Bubbles' ashes can be picked up.
I actually smelled him again yesterday around 11am. And my mom smelled him the night before at around 1am again. It's comforting to know he visits me and that he is home. My dad is still devestated. He hasn't been able to smell Bubbles, but maybe he won't ever. I told him, I know Bubbles is home - and he should talk to him in his own way. Just because he can't see or smell him doesn't mean he's not there.
My mom told me that even when Bubbles was having a difficult time walking, in the late afternoon when my dad would usually come home from running errands, he could be found waiting at the foot of the stairs, just as he always did, for my dad. There is no doubt that Bubbles had great love for my dad - I just want my dad to remember that and not dwell on the sickness.
There were moments at work today that I was able to talk about Bubbles with fondness, and there were those moments where the mention of him made me choke up. People were understanding - many know the feeling of losing a pet. They're not just dogs or cats (or any other type of animal). They become a part of the family. Bubbles was with us for 15 years. He was family. He had his own personality, his habits, his likes and dislikes, feelings... he was a part of us.
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