Dear Bico,
It’s been two weeks today—two whole weeks without you by my side. 4:44 came and went, and all I could think about was how quiet the house feels now. I miss our routine, our rhythm, the way you were always there like a heartbeat in the background of my day.
I miss your little sounds—the soft shuffle of your paws, your sleepy sighs, the occasional snore that made me smile no matter what kind of day I was having. I even miss the bark you’d give just to remind me you were still the boss.
You were more than a pet—you were a part of me. A constant, comforting presence who just understood without needing words. We had our own language, didn’t we? Just glances and movements and love.
I still look for you in the corners of the room. I still wait for you to appear at my feet or peek around a doorway. My hands ache to pet you, my days feel off-balance without your company. I miss the sound of your nails on the floor, the weight of your little body near mine. I even miss the worry—the care, the vigilance, the love that came with helping you through your last days.
You were such a brave boy, Bico-San. So full of spirit, even when your little legs didn’t want to cooperate. I hope you know how much you were loved. How deeply, how completely.
Thank you for everything—for the loyalty, the cuddles, the companionship, and the quiet magic of just being there.
I will keep writing to you, Bico, and talking to you—because you’ll always be a part of me. Until we meet again, keep dancing through the clouds with your strong legs and joyful heart.
Love always,
Me
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