The day they took Champion to the vet, on a windy Saturday morning, might have been the first time in a very long while that Andy saw April mope around the house. He was getting older, they knew that, and he was starting to hate his walks. Getting him up in the morning turned into getting him up in the middle of the day, and even then Champion growled at nothing and walked very slowly. Roberta, six years old, loved her best friend but couldn't get him to play anymore.

Neither of them had the heart to tell Roberta about Champion.

They fed him pain medication in his treats, slipping it into cheese until he figured that out. Taking Roberta to preschool was filled with questions.

"Why is Champion so sleepy?"

"Why doesn't he wanna play anymore?"

Andy has never wished more that April still took her to work than when he's blasted with those questions. It's even worse when they take him back to the vet and have to find someone to watch Roberta. It's not like this isn't affecting either of them - April especially. Andy could remember the first day they got him vividly, and how April was so excited that night.

"Andy," she whispered to him, waking him from a pretty nice dream if he remembered right.

Eventually he rolled over to see her rubbing and petting the three-legged dog's head, who was panting loudly in their room. "What's up?" he asked.

"I think he wants up," there was a spark in her voice that Andy only got to hear every once and a while. That little hint of excitement that he loved every second of hearing.

"Like in bed?" he laughed and then rolled back onto his side. "Whatever, help him up."

He knew April was smiling. Andy didn't have to see her face to know that, and when a small weight worked its way onto the bed and moved in front of Andy to curl up as best it could Andy could feel April smile into his back.

April actually cried. It wasn't that she was a void of emotions, or that Andy expected her to take it well, but he assumed she would just handle this like any serious situation in her life - shrug it off, deflect it, and pretend she didn't care. Andy didn't get to see that, instead holding onto her when her lip trembled and rubbing her shoulder slowly when she slammed her head in his shoulder.

The veterinarian was gentle, and kind with her words, so he didn't have to hear April fly into a blind rage at some uncaring asshat. Instead April just sneezed a little and nodded whenever the older woman said something, making sure they were okay with this. Truth was, they weren't but what choice did they have? He was in pain, and it was just a natural course of his life and of his breed, so they didn't have much choice.

Andy drove them home. The two of them. It gave him time to recall another memory that made his eyes water and his heart sink.

"Champion," April ruffled his ears, the dog licking her face immediately. April groaned but didn't stop him, making Andy laugh loudly.

"He's basically the only other person allowed to kiss you like that," Andy chuckled.

"He's a dog, Andy," April laughed but kissed the top of the dog's head before giving him a pat and accepting him in her lap. "He's like our kid."

Andy could remember his heart dropping off for a beat at that proclamation, like April had those same thoughts. "Yeah, I guess he is," he agreed.

"He won't be as great as our actual kid," April turned to look at him, a small grin on her face.

That was the day that Andy learned both that Champion was basically their first child, and that April was pregnant with their actual first child.

Roberta screamed for them the moment they opened the door, and so did the babysitter. April immediately picked her up and hugged her tight, kissing her cheek and making their daughter laugh out loud. April's face still had a small sadness to it, and Andy just pulled both his girls into a one-armed embrace before going to pay the babysitter.

When he went into the other room he heard Roberta ask, in the quietest and most curious voice, "where's Champion?"