Remembering a dog who brought joy not only to my friend's life but all of ours.

We love you, Romeo, and know that you're now in a better place. Thanks for being our Prince Charming for all these years. We, as well as all our dogs, will miss you forever.

THIRD CATEGORY would be tragedy but I didn't want to give anyone the wrong idea about this story. It's more in celebration than anything.

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.

"No!"

"Toronto, he's in a lot of pain. He..."

"No! We can't give up on him! He's... Dad, he's... He's my best friend, we can't just... No. No, we are not doing it!"

Kurt sighed. He knew breaking the news to his son would be hard but the 14 year old absolutely refused to even hear him out. Toronto was looking at him with defiant expression, tears glistening in his green eyes.

"Let's... Let's just go pick him up. He wants to be home, I know he does. He's probably so scared, he doesn't know what's going on. Please, Dad. Let's go pick him up..."

"T, look, we can't..."

"Dad!"

"Well, hello, how are my... Hey, whoa, hey! Toronto? What's going on?"

Blaine had just walked in through the front door and received an armful of a near hysterical teenager as a welcome home gift. He frowned at Kurt who was just about to explain when Toronto started to rambling:

"Tell him we can't do it! He says we have to but we don't, right? He'll get better! He will, Dad! I'll... I'll stay home from school and I'll make him better! Dad... Daddy... We have to bring him home."

Kurt swallowed against a lump in his throat as he watched Toronto bury his head into Blaine's chest, his shoulders shaking. Blaine put his arms around his shoulders and held him tightly. His own face was uncharacteristically serious.

"He's sick again?"

Kurt nodded. His eyes were stinging. "He threw up this morning so I took him to the vet. I... I honestly didn't really understand what he said but Blaine, he's in pain. And he's tired and he probably won't be able to eat anything solid." The slightly older one of the two parents took a step forward and placed a hand on Toronto's still shaking shoulder. "I know this is hard, baby, but it is for the..."

"Don't you dare say it's for the best!" Toronto nearly screamed, making both of his dads jump a little. "It is not for the best, he's a member of this family and you want to kill him! He's our Pav! He's MY Pavarotti and you can't take him away from me! I won't let you do it!"

Kurt glanced at the picture of the Golden retriever on their wall, taken a few years back when their little family had gone, despite Kurt's protests, camping to Maine. The dog looked so damn happy and proud of himself, all wet and muddy from swimming and running and retrieving whatever Toronto decided to throw into the lake. He had already been 10 at that time but still as lively and energetic as on the day he was brought home.

Unfortunately, that had changed a little too quickly.

"We love him, too, T. Trust me, this is not an easy decision," Kurt said.

"Then don't make it."

"Look, Tor, we can't keep him alive just because we can't say goodbye." Blaine's voice was soft and soothing but that didn't stop Toronto from pulling away from and staring at him with a hurt, betrayed expression. "I know it's not fair."

"No. No, no, NO! You can't do this, NO!" Toronto yelled when Kurt moved to touch him. "I hate you. I hate both of you!"

And with that the boy turned around and ran up the stairs, slamming the door shut when he reached his room. The two men stood frozen in the hall, Blaine still in his winter coat. The ringing silence was broken when the adrenaline left Kurt's body and he stumbled backwards. He would have fallen right on his ass if his husband hadn't caught him, enveloping him in a hug much like his son just a couple of minutes ago.

"You okay?"

Kurt shook his head. "It's not like I want to do it. It's the last thing I want. But Blaine... You should have heard the way he whined. He's not happy anymore, he's just suffering."

His own words sounded like excuses to him. He had to convince himself that this was the right thing to do because the guilt was eating his insides, making him feel hollow. Guilt for not knowing if there was something they could have done to give Pavarotti Jr. a couple of more years. Guilt for leaving him, although asleep and as pain free as possible, to the vet's office. Guilt for having to shatter Toronto's perfect world.

"This is not your fault," Blaine suddenly said, as if reading Kurt's mind. "He's old. These things happen." Kurt heard the tears in his voice. "We gave him the best life. Let's be happy for that."

"Since when have you had a dog?" Kurt asked, balancing a 11-month old Toronto on his hip while looking out of the window to the backyard.

"Oh, we don't," Carole replied. "He just appeared to the neighborhood. He refuses to come inside but is perfectly happy to be petted. No one has reported a missing dog so we just leave him food and water outside. And before you ask, yes, people have tried to catch him but he seems to know all their tricks. I swear, it's like he can read minds."

Kurt chuckled. The young Goldie had his nose buried in the snow, clearly looking for something interesting he had smelled. "It's kind of cold outside."

"You're welcome to try and get him to come in."

Toronto let out a happy giggle. "What's that, Sweet T? You wanna go play with the pup?" Another happy giggle. "Okay, let's get you dressed."

The father and son stepped outside to the yard ten minutes later, Toronto clad in so many layers he looked like a over-sized soccer ball with legs. The puppy looked up, his face covered in the powder snow and let out a high-pitched bark before running up to them, so excited you'd think they were his owners.

"Hey, buddy. Having fun out here? Oh, okay... Okay, let's be careful with the coat, yeah?"

The dog jumped up and down as if he was on a trampoline, making Toronto laugh excitedly. The baby was reaching out to touch the golden fur, making baby-sounds that may or may not have sounded demanding.

"You're a nice dog, aren't you? Careful with babies? You're a baby yourself, I see. Wherever have you come from, huh?"

Kurt bent his knees so he was down to the dog's level. He settled Toronto to stand in front of him, keeping a hold of the baby's waist to keep him up. The dog's movement almost instantly became slower and more careful as he looked at the smallest human he had ever seen. He tilted his head when Toronto reached out again, his hand covered in a red and white mitten.

"There we go, nice and easy," Kurt smiled when the dog stepped forward and sniffed the mitten. Toronto was absolutely delighted. "You remind me of someone, you know. He was golden like you but a lot smaller. And a bird. Is Daddy weird, Toronto? A dog reminds him of a bird."

But Toronto wasn't listening as the puppy had decided this little person was super interesting and had moved from the hand to sniff him all over.

"Pavarotti Junior." The dog stopped his exploring for a full three seconds before continuing to try and determine what Toronto was exactly. "You like that name? You don't think it's funny I'm naming you after a Warbler?" Toronto let out a squeal when... Pavarotti... licked his nose. "I take that as a no. Pavarotti you are then."

They played with their new-found friend for a while longer, Kurt helping Toronto to throw him snowballs to chase. A couple of times the dog managed to catch them in mid-air, for which he got applause as a reward. He loved the attention as much as he loved playing and Toronto's baby-laugh seemed to make his tail wag more than any praise Kurt gave him.

"Well, isn't this a picture from a Christmas card," Kurt heard Blaine say a few moments later. He stepped out to the yard, causing Toronto to try and wiggle out of Kurt's grasp and Pavarotti to stop chasing his tail. "Who's this?" he asked as he scooped his son to his arms.

"I named his Pavarotti Junior," Kurt answered. Blaine raised his eyebrows. "Shut up. Anyway, he's a stray. Loves to play but won't come in."

"Looks like a pure-breed. Or, well... I wouldn't know. But he is beautiful."

"He is. And he absolutely adores T. And vice versa."

"Is that so?" Blaine said. Pavarotti was sitting in front of him, patiently awaiting for Toronto to be put down to play with again. "You think he would follow T to the house? Carole says dinner is ready and it's getting really cold."

"Worth a shot. Come on, buddy! Let's go inside and get something for you to eat, hmm? Come on. Yeah, that's a good boy!" Kurt cooed when Pavarotti took a few careful steps towards the house. "Put the baby down, that might encourage him."

Blaine did what was told and Pavarotti immediately ran up to his new best friend. Toronto giggled and it looked like the dog forgot his fear or didn't realize where he was headed as he followed them in, maybe thinking this was a nice game of tag.

"There we go, that wasn't scary now, was it?" Kurt smiled when he closed the door. Pavarotti didn't seem to care about the change of temperature or that he had been tricked as he was now showering the toddler in puppy-kisses, amazingly careful with where he placed his paws. "You think he will care about the gift we got him?"

"Probably not," Blaine smiled. "I think this is one of Santa's best ideas ever."

It wasn't planned but when on December 27th the Anderson-Hummels started to head home, their family of three had become a family of four.

"Dads?"

Toronto's eyes were red and his anger had now turned into defeat and sorrow and shame as he held a photo album to his chest, looking at his parents in a way that made him seem like he was five again. Kurt and Blaine were sitting on the living room couch, arms around each other. The mood of the house was depressing.

"I'm... I'm sorry. For what I said. I don't hate you. I don't know why I said that, I was just so... angry and... I'm sorry." The last word came out more like a sob. Kurt smiled sadly as he held out his hand which Toronto took gratefully, sitting down between the two men. "I'm sorry," he repeated.

"We know. It's okay," Kurt whispered and placed a soft kiss on his son's silky hair.

"I just can't believe he's... I mean, I can't remember not having him. He's always been here. He's seen everything. He knows that time I get home from school, he knows when I'm sad and he's knows when I'm happy. I think he knows me better than I do sometimes."

"Pavarotti is a pretty extraordinary dog," Blaine agreed. His hand was making soothing circles on Toronto's back.

"I was mostly angry at myself," Toronto admitted after a moment of silence.

"Why?" Kurt asked.

"I wasn't here. He was sick and I wasn't here. I thought he must be hurt and confused, why would I leave him when he needs me the most? He was there every time I was sick or sad and then, when he is, I'm not home. I couldn't have done anything about the pain but at least I could have..."

"Hey, hey..." Kurt said when Toronto's voice started to rise. "None of us knew this would happen today. Don't blame yourself for not being able to predict the future. Remember that you're the reason Pavarotti wanted to become our dog in the first place. If it wasn't for you he might have been a stray for the rest of his life."

Toronto nodded. "He always listens when I want to talk. I know world is more accepting than what it used to be but sometimes... Sometimes people just don't get it." Kurt and Blaine looked at each other for a second. "And I love you guys so much and I just can't understand why some people think our family is weird. But Pavarotti wanted to be part of our family, he didn't judge then and he doesn't now."

Kurt's tears were finally falling on his cheeks but he was trying his best to hide the from the teen. Blaine's free hand was squeezing his.

"We love you, too, baby," Kurt said after a while. "And we love Pavarotti and he will always, always, be in our hearts. But..." Toronto winced. "...oh God, T, I'm so sorry but it is time to say goodbye. We don't want him to leave before letting him know just how great his is one more time, right?"

"No... No we don't." He squeezed the photo album a little more tightly. "Just... a few more minutes. Then we can go. Just a couple more."

"Okay," Blaine said. "Take your time."

"Here," Toronto sniffed as he covered Pavarotti with his baby-blanket. "Smells like us, doesn't it? Of all of us." Blaine squeezed his shoulder. "I bet dog-heaven is so much fun. There are so many friends for you. Hey, Lucy is probably up there, too! You remember Lucy, right? From next door. Yeah, I knew you would," he said when Pavarotti's ear twitched at the mention of his Boxer friend. "And from what I have understood there is an endless pile of treats but you will never get fat from eating them. You're gonna be young forever, you can chase snow balls to your heart's content. You no longer have to steal redvines... Even though I'm pretty sure that was half of the fun for you."

"I bet it was," Blaine mumbled.

"Thank you for everything, Pav. I guess you don't even know how much you've done for us. We will never, ever forget you, I promise. And I'm so sorry for this but you will be so much happier when this is all over. There are no stairs in Heaven, I swear. And no evil vacuum cleaners. Yeah, I know you hate vacuum cleaners," Toronto said in response to the quietest of whines. "I don't like them either."

"We love you, buddy," Kurt said, leaning down to kiss the dog's snout. "Thank you for choosing us."

"Maybe you'll finally meet the bird Kurt named you after," Blaine smiled. His fingers were playing with the fur behind the dog's ear. "We'll miss you."

"You want a moment alone with him?" Kurt asked Toronto who shook his head quickly.

"No, I can't... And I've said all I can. He knows the rest. I know he does. You do, don't you, Pav?" The dog looked at him calmly. "I know, I stupid question."

"Okay... Okay, then I guess I'll... I'll get the doctor."

Kurt was a little unsteady on his feet as he went to the door that lead into the doctor's office. He knocked shortly and a couple of seconds later a kind faced, slightly over-weight woman stepped out. She had clearly done this a number of times but it was oddly nice to see that she wasn't used to it.

"He'll feel no pain."

She didn't ask them if they were ready because she knew they wouldn't be. Toronto squeezed his eyes shut and leaned into his parents when he saw the huge needle she was holding.

"Oh, God..." he whispered.

Pavarotti let out a little whimper.

"Don't be scared, okay?" Toronto forced himself to say, opening his eyes. "I'll be fine. You'll be fine. And happy. I love you so much."

"Alright, now it'll take a couple of minutes. It's like falling asleep for him."

The adults nodded while Toronto kept his eyes fixed on Pavarotti's. No more words were exchanged as the dog's breaths became slower and slower until they finally stopped all together.

"He's gone..."

"Can we..." Blaine swallowed. "Can we take him home?"

"Of course," the doctor smiled. "I'm sorry."

"Thank you," Kurt said quietly.

Toronto sobbed.

"Okay, okay! I get it, you want to go out. Hold on," Kurt said. "I hate this door, why does it have to freeze every time it goes below...? Oh, finally, off you... Hey!" Pavarotti nearly knocked Kurt over in his hurry to get out of the house. "Pav! What the hell was that for? Pav? Pavarotti! What, wait, no! PAV!"

"Kurt? What's going on, why are you yelling?" Blaine asked as he hurried to the living room.

"Pavarotti jumped over the fence. He was restless and kept whining so I let him out and he just freaking jumped over the fence!"

"Okay, calm down. I'll get the coats and we'll go after him. He's a smart dog, he wouldn't do this for no rea..."

Their eyes widened as they both stumbled upon the same thought on the exact same second.

"Toronto!"

It took them exactly ten seconds to get out of to the street that would lead them to the near by park. It was so close, in fact, that when Toronto had turned six his parents had started to allow him walk there by himself as long as he promised to come home when his friends left.

That's why, when they two minutes later reached the playground, it was both surprising and alarming to find Toronto sitting next to the swings alone.

Or... Not alone exactly. Their silly, amazing dog was sitting next to him, licking away each tear that fell on the boy's face.

"Oh my Gosh, Toronto! What happened?" Kurt asked as soon as they reached the pair. "Are you okay, are you hurt? Talk to me, baby. Tell me what's wrong."

"I... I lost my shoe. We were playing hide and seek and then it was suddenly gone and I can't find it. We tried but... but Andy had to go home and I told him I'd be fine and I looked but... but it's gone. I'm sorry, Daddys, I didn't m-mean to. These are... my... my favorite. The dinosaur shoes... I'm sorry... The-there's too much sn-snow..."

Pavarotti licked away yet another tear.

"It's okay, buddy. We're not mad. We're just happy you're not hurt," Blaine said soothingly. "Come on, you must be freezing. Let's go home and get something warm to drink, yeah?"

Toronto nodded and lifted his arms so Kurt could pick him up. Pavarotti got up as well, shaking his fur before following his three masters happily, never showing any signs of wanting to run away from them.

"Good boy, Pavarotti. Thank you, you did well."

Pavarotti wagged his tail and happily accepted the pig's ear once the four of them got home.

A change of clothes, a movie and three whole cups of hot chocolate later, Toronto had finally fallen asleep. Both Blaine and Kurt tucked him in, Pavarotti following their every movement. As the two dads leaned down to kiss their son's forehead, the Goldie jumped on the bed, something he knew very well he wasn't allowed to do, did a couple of circles and layed down as if this had always been allowed. Toronto didn't even stir.

The two adults looked at the dog who looked back with an expression that said 'what? you expect me to leave him alone?'

"Okay, Pav. But just this once, got it?" Kurt whispered, giving the dog an affectionate kiss on the head. "You're such a good boy. Yes, such a good boy. Sweet dreams."

It was a couple of days later when Blaine was walking by the same park with Pavarotti when the dog suddenly started digging the snow from a seemingly random spot. Used to the dog's weird obsession with snow, Blaine just smiled and waited, enjoying the mid-winter sun. Needless to say, his amazement was big when Pavarotti suddenly barked happily, dug his nose even deeper into the snow and came up with a small shoe that had a green, smiling dinosaur on it.

Pavarotti barely ever spent the night on the floor again.

It was about two months later that the three of them started to talk about getting another dog. The pain of losing Pavarotti had slowly faded and while it was still weird that he wasn't there to meet them when they got home, the memories of the happy times with him were enough to help them heal.

So at the end of January, a few days after Toronto's 15th birthday, they drove to a pound in Brooklyn. Filled with dogs of all colors and sizes, it was a brown mutt that caught Toronto's eye. He wagged his tail when he approached him but even though he was surrounded by friends, somehow he looked more lonely than the others.

"He was brought in with a female we suppose was his sister. She unfortunately didn't make it," the man who had let them in said.

"How old is he?" Blaine asked.

"A little over a year, according to the vet. He's been here for about a month but barely lets us touch him. He's kind and never shows any signs of aggression, he just isn't as social as some of the... Well, my goodness!"

The dog was looked like he had never experienced anything more wonderful than Toronto's touch. The boy was stroking his head, smiling softly.

"It's him," he announced.

"Can we hire you?" the man asked, clearly impressed. Toronto just smiled more widely. "Okay, uh... Let's get him out, then you'll just have to sign some papers and he's all yours."

Two hours later they let in their newest family member who looked at his surroundings with curiosity and wonder.

"Welcome home, Luciano."

*sigh*

So... The impossible has happened and I now have a Tumblr... :o Never ever thought this day would come but... Well.

http: / shanehane . tumblr . com /

You know the drill, just write it without the spaces.

Was I inspired by Marley and Me? Uh... Duh! But most of all this written in memoriam of Romeo (see the AN above).

May he rest in peace.