Pugsly

         Several years ago, I was soundly sleeping at Nine O'clock in the morning. Gina, My wife, shakes me awake and apologizes saying she has to show me something. Then she dumps a fuzzy lump in my lap. The lump was a Pug dog who looked up at me and licked my face.

         It seems while driving my son to school, this crazy pug just stood in the middle of a street filled with traffic. My wife stopped her van and retrieved the lost dog. Now, we already had two dogs, but I am a dog lover and Gina was already in love. The dog had no identification but did have a flea collar on so must have belonged to somebody. After two weeks of searching the lost ads and finding no mention of a Pug, we decided to keep him and named him Pugsly.

         Saying Pugsly was friendly is like saying a serial killer is mean. In a life filled with dogs this was the sweetest dog I had ever met. If he actually got mad, which would almost always be at my seven year old son for playing too rough, he would jump at your face and run away to find someone who would cuddle him.

         For the first time we had a dog that belonged to Gina as he shadowed her everywhere. Usually they followed me. One less than memorable day my wife told me Pugsly seemed ill. He was less energetic, refused to eat his food and was throwing up the simple people food Gina tried to feed him. This was odd as nothing ever seemed more important to Pugsly than food. She brought him to the vet who told her it was just a bug and to come back in two weeks if he doesn't get better.

         One week later my wife was at work and I was home alone with the dogs. I was petting Pugsly who failed to even wag his tail. His tongue was hanging out, yet, he was not panting. As I cuddled him I realized I could feel his ribs and he had lost a lot of weight. I immediately put him in the car and brought him to the vet. That was a Friday.

         The vet said the dog was severely dehydrated and need to be fed through a tube and monitored. I left him there and went back for a visit that afternoon with Gina. We visited again Saturday and Monday but he seemed worse each time. Tuesday morning I came home from work and told Gina if he wasn't any better it would be time to ease his suffering. She looked at me with tear filled eyes and nodded her head.

         An hour later we were in an exam room and the doggie nurse brought him into us. He was quite gaunt and wagged his tail once. We sat down and waited for the vet with Pugsly in Gina's arms. He looked up at her once, put his head down and gave a final gasp. That slight raspy sound echoed off the walls of the small room and I knew immediately he was gone. I grabbed him and ran for the vet. When we returned to the room with the vet he confirmed the dog had died.

         Dog lovers all understand the loss of this family member. Dogs don't have long lives and this is expected. However, the loss of this 3-4 year old pug was hard. No pet has had a stronger affect on me in my entire life. His favorite place in the world was in my wife's arms. It's been over two years since he passed away and I will always remember what the house was like with him in it. Most of all, I will always remember that final moment, when poor suffering Pugsly held on to life just long enough, to be in Gina's arms, one last time, before letting go.


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