She noticed it first when she woke up one morning and found Roscoe curled against her side, snoring softly, his head on her stomach like a weighted pillow. Lewis was standing at the foot of the bed, arms crossed, eyebrows raised.
“Traitor,” he muttered.
She laughed, scratching Roscoe’s ears. “He just wanted cuddles.”
“He always wants cuddles,” Lewis said, climbing into bed on her other side. “With me.”
Roscoe lifted his head, blinked at Lewis… and then placed one giant paw protectively across her waist.
Lewis gasped. “Oh, so that’s how it is.”
She tried not to laugh. She failed.
---
It only got worse.
At breakfast, Roscoe sat at her feet, staring up with big, hopeful eyes.
Lewis placed a piece of fruit on his own plate. “Roscoe, come here.”
Roscoe didn’t move.
Lewis tried again, voice slightly higher. “Buddy. Come on.”
Roscoe turned his head… and rested it on her knee.
She bit her lip to hide her smile. Lewis did not hide his outrage.
“Unbelievable. I raised him. I pay his vet bills. I buy his organic treats. And this is the thanks I get.”
She reached down to pet Roscoe. “Maybe he just likes my energy.”
Lewis pointed at Roscoe like he was presenting evidence in court. “He’s doing this on purpose.”
Roscoe thumped his tail, clearly pleased with himself.
---
The final straw came at the paddock.
She was sitting on a folding chair in Lewis’s driver room, scrolling on her phone, when Roscoe trotted over and plopped his entire body across her feet. A warm, heavy, immovable blanket of dog.
Lewis walked in, still in his race suit, sweat-damp curls sticking to his forehead. He froze.
“No. No, no, no. Absolutely not.”
She looked up, confused. “What?”
“He’s supposed to greet me first.”
Roscoe didn’t even lift his head.
Lewis crouched down. “Roscoe. I just drove a whole race. Come on, man.”
Roscoe blinked slowly, then shifted even closer to her, pressing his face into her leg.
Lewis sat back on his heels, betrayed. “He’s choosing you over me.”
She reached out and tugged Lewis closer by the collar of his suit. “Maybe he just knows I’m the one who gives the best cuddles.”
Lewis narrowed his eyes. “I give excellent cuddles.”
“Do you?”
He leaned in, lips brushing her cheek. “You know I do.”
Roscoe made a soft huffing noise — the canine equivalent of get a room — and Lewis pulled back, scandalized.
“Did he just judge me?”
She laughed so hard she nearly fell off the chair.
---
That night, Lewis climbed into bed and immediately wrapped himself around her, arms tight, chin on her shoulder.
“Mine,” he murmured dramatically.
She snorted. “Are you talking to me or Roscoe?”
“Both.”
Roscoe, already curled at her feet, lifted his head and gave Lewis a slow blink.
Lewis pointed at him. “You can have her during the day. But at night? She’s mine.”
Roscoe placed his head back down, utterly unbothered.
She stroked Lewis’s arm. “You know he loves you.”
“He loves you more.”
“Maybe he just knows how much you love me.”
Lewis went quiet.
Then he kissed her shoulder, soft and warm. “Yeah. Maybe.”
She smiled into the darkness. “Come here, you big baby.”
He tightened his arms around her, burying his face in her neck. “I’m still his favourite.”
Roscoe let out a single, pointed woof.
Lewis groaned. “I can’t believe this.”
She laughed, threading her fingers through his. “I can.”
And somewhere at the foot of the bed, Roscoe wagged his tail — smug, victorious, and very much in love with both of them.
I don't care what team you support, who you hate or who you don't, all of f1blr better come together to keep sweet Roscoe Hamilton in your thoughts and prayers
