Spanky

On November 6, 2005 our precious baby Spanky lost his brief, but very brave battle with Pug Dog Encephalitis. He was only three years old.

The moment Spanky joined our family, our lives were changed forever. No longer was there a dull (or quiet) moment. Spanky was the source of endless hours of entertainment. He was the family clown and never failed to make me laugh. One way or another, Spanky always made certain that he was the center of attention. He had a huge personality, packed into a pug's little body. I will never forget the way Spanky's little brow furrowed and how his ears flopped as he trotted down the sidewalk... pulling incessantly on his leash. I will forever miss his sweet kisses and his adorable, oversized paws.

After becoming ill and being diagnosed with Pug Encephalitis, Spanky gave me two precious weeks of laughter, mixed with tears. Spanky and I were virtually inseparable during those last two weeks. Even in the face of a fatal illness, Spanky showed strength and bravery and continued to bring laughter and joy to everyone around him. Although my time with him was short, Spanky left an undeniable impression upon my heart and my life will never be the same without him.

Mikey was already 10y/o when his owner decided to leave this world. Judging by Mikey's condition, she had long been too despondent to care for him. Mikey's teeth were some of the worst we'd seen outside a puppymill, and he had numerous small tumors that needed attention. Mikey had never been neutered. After all his surgeries and his dental, Mikey had one tooth left in his mouth. When he laid his chin down, his jowls flattened and fanned out on either side of his head. Since he was already old and unwell, I made my mind up not to get too attached.

Despite my efforts to keep an emotional distance, it's tough to stand your ground in the face of absolute adoration. Mikey loved his foster mom to distraction. He would often just sit and stare at me with those huge, liquid eyes. If I was working at my desk, he put his paws on my knee to be lifted up. He loved being held baby-style with me rubbing his belly. When Kevin came into the room, Mikey would invariably turn his head ever-so-slowly to look up at him as if to say, "See, she loves me best". And I did.

Our vet deemed Mikey unadoptable due to multiple health issues, and he became one of our retirees. We expected Mikey to live only a few months. He was with us more than a year before succumbing to a collapsed trachea. When we made the decision to euthanize Mikey, I thought my heart would break into a billion pieces. I miss him still. I hope that, if he has reunited in Heaven with the owner who deserted him, she has learned to appreciate the little pug with the huge eyes who deserved so much better.

Bethany came to IMR in a group of eight puppymill pugs, all of them horribly neglected and very sick. Bethany's vision was almost totally gone - she could see well enough to avoid an object once she was on top of it. The vet who did her dental informed us her jaw was fractured from disease, had been for a long time. She was sad and fearful. Flea bites edged her ears and she walked with a low, skulking gait that was about as beaten-down as a dog could get.

I named her Bethany and made her an incongruously cheerful necklace of butterflies and daisies. To my amazement, she slowly began responding to us in tiny ways. When I wiped the sleep from her eyes, she pressed her face into my hand. The periods where she was still when I held her began to lengthen. Gradually, she starting laying her head on my shoulder. After a month, when she was in the backyard and I called her name, Bethany would run a beeline to the pet door and straight into the kitchen, tail held high. At feeding time, she cried an ear-piercing demand for the soft food she adored and could eat comfortably.

But, although she ate heartily, Bethany continued dropping weight. Blood work showed only a low thyroid. Our vet suspected an aggressive cancer, Bethany died wrapped in a warm blanket, in a soft bed. The night she died I held her until 2:00am, then laid beside her until she slept. A few hours later she was gone. She spent eight years in a puppymill that used her up for profit, and two months in a home where she knew happiness and love. Doesn't seem fair, does it? Yesterday, September 26th, I buried Bethany's ashes beneath the weeping willow in our backyard. I hope wherever she is she looks on me with kindness and knows how much I wish I could have done more.

She came into our life with the help of my friend Melanie O’Brien at IL-MO Rescue. Her approximate age at the time was 8. Melanie had given her the name “Bubbles”. A perfect name for her happy little personality. I decided to name her Lena after my Great-Grandmother who had endured so much in her life, yet she loved everyone. This little Pug reminded me of her, they shared the same spirit. Her little ear tattooed with a number no longer legible. Her soulful eyes and her side ways half hopping run made me instantly fall in love with her. She was spirited and spunky. Her enthusiasm for everything, food, toys, affection and the comfort of sleeping on a soft bed was evident in her expressions. Greeting everyone with almost a smile on her face, little tail wagging and ears cocked forward as if to say, “you’ve come to visit me, nice to see you.” She comforted me through several personal losses, she never seemed to mind that her little body was being wetted by my tears. She would lie on my chest and look at me with those eyes, as if to say, “everything will be ok, I’m here and I love you”.

Unfortunately, our time with little Lena went by in an instant. Three years gone in a flash. Our special little girl was growing older and weaker. The trips to the vets and specialists became a regular part of the weekly routine, trying to find a way to make her stronger and healthier. Her little body was so ravaged with arthritis that she was on pain medication, her little body was wearing out. We couldn’t keep her protein levels up or her white blood cell count down, despite IV proteins being administered on a regular basis and round after round of antibiotic. She had started turning her nose up to the chicken breast being offered to her, she was no longer comfortable enough to sleep, she would only paced the floor, until she got so weak that walking was difficult. After a long tearful discussion with my vets, they assured me that the best thing I could do for my little Lena was to let her go on to the Rainbow Bridge.

In a room full of people who loved and adored her, wrapped up in her little blanket, my little angel Lena went on to the Rainbow Bridge on February 3^rd, 2006 at around 5:15 in the evening at the approximate age of 11. Lena’s Grandma will have her little ashes, minus a small amount that I will be wearing in a pendant close to my heart.

We love you and miss you Lena, every second of every day, that will never change. Play, run, jump and enjoy the freedom without pain, I’ll be looking for you as soon as I get there with kisses and hugs. Until then eat, sleep and be happy, knowing that we all love you.

In Memory Of Maggie (?? - 6/23/04)

For my Friend, Melanie

You came to me many years ago, with a past that was completely unknown.

I loved you immediately, gentle eyes, soft fur and little tongue hanging.

You filled all my nights and days, with your playful little puggie ways.

You shared your bed with many others, never once a complaint or bother.

The years came and went like the wind, I never realized how close we were to the end.

I kissed you each day and snuggled you at night, but I would have held on longer and with a little more might.

The day came suddenly when you were swept away, the sky opened up as angel’s tears fell on me that day.

I’ll miss your little nose against mine, the emptiness I feel I cannot deny.

I keep on going for there are others in need, others to save, love, nurture and feed.

Knowing you’d not want me to stop, keeping all the others safe from life in a pet shop.

My heart aches to see your little face, But, we’ll be together again in another time and place………..

Poor Bubby found himself blind and homeless at age nine, along with his 10y/o brother, Tuffy. Neither pug had seen a vet for years. Although younger, Bubby was obviously in the worse shape of the two pugs. Poor Bubby was only in rescue for a few days before he died of complications from pneumonia. Our sweet Bubby was a real trooper who wagged his tail whenever someone petted him, even as sick as he was. In a strange house and yard, he followed the other dogs and slept on the bed with his foster mom for his last few days. It was a sad ending for a good pug.