"There's something missing in my home, I feel it day and night,
I know it will take time and strength before things feel quite right.
But just for now, I need to mourn, my heart - it needs to mend.
Though some may say, 'It's just a pet,' I know I've lost a friend.
You've brought such laughter to my home, and richness to my days.
A constant friend through joy or loss with gentle, loving ways.
Companion, friend, and confidante, a friend I won't forget.
You'll live forever in my heart, my sweet, forever pet."
~ Susanne Taylor ~
Many thanks to a dear friend, Steve, for sharing the Susanne Taylor poem. It's so appropriate for my darling little Puglena. ❤

One Saturday morning in mid-May of 2004 a happy, happy little fawn and chocolate female Pug Dog appeared at our driveway gate. She stood there with her little head cocked to one side, grinning with an under bite, and furiously wagging her tightly curled perky tail. She smelled to high heaven and had a ragged faded red-brown leather collar, but no tags. Craig and I brought her in, wiped her down with Doggy Wipes, fed and watered her, then promptly loaded her into the car to take her to Dr Steve. Since we didn't have a clue as to whom she belonged, we wanted to make sure she was healthy enough to be with Princess and Penny. At the stop sign to the main road leading into Shreveport, we noticed a lost notice for a missing Pug with a phone number, which I immediately called. Craig turned around as I gave him directions to her home, on our street and a block up from our own.
The young man claimed that he was keeping his cousin's dog and that she must have escaped from the fenced yard. The cousin had recently been deployed to Iraq, and naturally, that tugged at our heartstrings. We were proud to have helped keep his baby safe while he served our country.
Craig and I walked around the yard pointing out many escape routes and offered to help repair them, but he said he would take care of it. He told us she was three years old and was not spayed, so we told him the numerous benefits of spaying. Sadly, we bid fond farewells to this adorable little dog with such a sparkling personality.
The following week neighbors as far as a mile away were calling us to keep an eye out for a little Pug who was wandering all over the neighborhood. Repeatedly we said that the situation was under control, that we had found her and returned her to her rightful home, and that she wouldn't be escaping any more. Then that weekend, friends who lived a quarter of a mile from us, called to let us know that the dog was at their house. Unbelievable; so all those calls WERE about the little dog running loose again. We picked her up, took her home, but the man rushed to our car before we could get out. Hmmm, what's up with that, we wondered, as we handed her out the window. Suspicious, two hours later we walked down to check out the dog's yard, for that guy sure did NOT want us to get out. Not a single hole in the fence had been repaired. We were livid. We decided that if we saw her out again, we would simply bring her into our brood.
Early Tuesday morning, June 29, 2004 as Craig was leaving for work, who should be standing at our gate but the little Pug. We had formed our rescue organization in February, so I opened the gate and told the little girl, "Welcome to Pawprints and Purrs, Inc, wee one. Come on in." Getting Craig off, I defleaed her with a good flea shampoo, dried and brushed her, then headed for Dr Steve's thirty minutes before the good vet opened.
Dr Steve asked me what name to put on her records. Out of nowhere came the name Puglena. He and his staff howled, but liked the name. When Craig came home I told him we were the proud parents of Puglena – he just shook his head and asked where I come up with some of these names for our critters. I truly don't know, but the names seem to fit our little ones.
Since we'd been told that she was three years old and I brought her in for the vet check on June 29th, we gave her the birth date of June 29, 2001. Her nails were way overgrown, she was overweight, had a bad cough, was flea-infested again, had intestinal parasites, and tested positive for heartworms; in fact, she was badly infested with heartworms. That little dog had been living outdoors. Pugs cannot stand the high humidity and heat this area has, making their inbred breathing issues even more difficult.
Dr Steve said that there was a very strong possibility that she wouldn't survive the treatment since the heartworms had greatly enlarged her heart, but I OKed the then $500 treatment, telling him I would drive out to see her the following morning. He also told me that should she come through the treatment, he couldn't promise the full fifteen years of life expectancy that Pugs normally live. In fact, he said he seriously doubted she'd live past her eighth birthday. I cried all the way home. Flea and heartworm prevention medication each month is relatively inexpensive.
The next day I visited Puglena at the clinic. She was beside herself with happiness when she saw me approaching her cage. On the third day I brought her home for four weeks of crate rest and limited exercise. She was such a joy, but worried us silly for she became extremely excited to have ANY amount of attention given her. She was starved for affection and kindness.
She got along beautifully with Princess and the cats, but she absolutely worshiped our Beagle, Penny. Wherever Penny was, there would be Puglena.
A month later I took her back to the vet. She'd recovered from the treatment ordeal and was ready to be spayed. That same afternoon as I took Penny for her daily walk, I saw the young man's truck approaching and my heart did a flip-flop. "Oh please, don't let him ask if I've seen that little dog," I silently prayed. When he got even with me and stopped, I got the first words in by asking how the dog was doing. He said she was doing just great and hadn't escaped a single time since he fixed the holes in the fence. I was stunned with his response and prayed that he wasn't aware of my astonishment or hear the erratic beating of my heart, for at that very minute, Puglena was on Dr Steve's table being spayed, plus she'd been living in our home for nearly six weeks. Then he said that he was in the process of moving from the Keithville area, so snarky me just had to ask if Penny and I could come with him to see the dog one last time. He replied that she was temporarily staying with friends of his in Shreveport. Amazing.
Craig and I often wondered what tall tale was told to Puglena's original guardian when he came home from Iraq. Our hearts broke for his loss of this wonderful dog.
Puglena was such a happy, cheerful little girl. She absolutely adored me and tagged along after me all over the house and yard. She's been my constant shadow for nearly ten years.
With her smushed-in little face and bulging big eyes, we made sure that she didn't stay outdoors any longer than it took to do her business during the summer months, though she so loved being outside. She continuously suffered with chronic bronchiectasis (acute inflammation of the airways) and pyoderma (skin infection). Six years ago she developed in both eyes keratoconjunctivitis sicca (dry eye - unable to produce tears that keep the eyes moist) and arthritic inflammation in her hips. She never became comfortable with the many, many routine meds and eye ointments 3-4 times daily. Yet she loved life to the fullest and was always, always a happy, carefree little dog. She would wag that little tail even in her sleep. In the last four years, her eyesight and hearing became seriously impaired.
She dearly loved Greenies, but would walk around with that little green toothbrush-shaped treat in her mouth for hours before eating it. Craig would tell her, "Pugsey, you look like Winston Churchill with his cigar."
Pugs are prone to obesity, especially as they age. We kept her weight between 16-18 pounds. Sixteen pounds was her ideal weight.
Saturday afternoon, July 6, 2013 she was sound asleep at my feet as I read. Suddenly she let out a sharp, shrill shriek, staggered to her feet, then fell over, panting and gasping for breath with her tongue lolling from her mouth. I believed that she'd suffered a massive stroke – thinking her badly damaged little heart couldn't keep up with her tired little body. Dr Steve closes at noon on Saturdays, so I made her as comfortable as I could until he reopened Monday morning, July 8th.
Dr Brad was on duty – he took one look at Puglena and said, "No, she didn't have a stroke. Let me take her to the back. I suspect something else but need to get her in oxygen therapy before performing an examination."
She had Pug Dog encephalitis (swelling of the brain, which I had thought was always fatal) and internal otitis (deep, deep inner ear infection). Both are common in geriatric Pugs - neither will mimic a massive stroke, but the combination of the two will, plus gave her the equivalent of vertigo that humans experience - why she kept staggering and falling. He kept her in the oxygen tank for 2 1/2 hours, then gave her intravenous fluids and a steroid shot. He sent home Mometamax suspension ear drops and prednisone pills with instructions to bring her back in two weeks – which would be when she would finish taking those drugs. This experience left her with a rather severe permanent head-tilt, which only added to her character. She quickly adapted well to eating and walking in spite of it.
Other than a bout with chronic bronchiectasis last fall, she continued to be in relatively good health until the first of this year. Her arthritis was severely flaring up, so the good doctors had me increase her pain meds. The past couple of days she had started whining quite a bit, something she never had done before.
Last night she refused water and her supper, then turned her nose up at her dearly loved treat that I offered in supper's place. She refused to come out of her crate. During the night her breathing became very labored. This morning she was unable to get to her feet.
I called Dr Steve, for I knew it was time to send my little Pugs to her Daddy CraigCat. Dr Steve was at his physician's office for a routine checkup and Dr Brad was in surgery. I was asked if I wanted to wait until Dr Steve returned at 2pm or as soon as Dr Brad was out of surgery. I told them I would like to see one of the two female vets, Dr Newell, because I didn't want my Pugster to suffer any longer than she had to.
Dr Newell administered the first shot. Puglena laid her sweet head on my arm as I gently stroked those velvety ears of hers, all the while talking softly to her. She was slowly wagging her tail. Her breathing slowed and before the second injection was completely administered, I felt her last breath on my wrist and saw the last wag of that darling little tail. My beloved little girl was gone; flying away on silken wings to the Bridge where her Daddy CraigCat, Princess, and her best pal, Penny, helped her cross over to wait for me.
Dr Newell wrote on the little cardboard coffin that Pugs was sent home in: "Puglena, you will be missed. Keep an eye on us down here. ❤ Dr Newell"
The staff handed me a small package as I left with her, telling me that inside was a cast of Puglena's paw print, with her name stenciled above the imprint. A treasure, simply a treasure – I wasn't expecting it, for this is something they started the first of the year.
When I took Pugs to her burial site, our large dogs Beau, Maggie, and Lily, as they have done at other burials, lay off to one side as I dug her grave beside her adored little Penny's grave. I went through the Rainbow Bridge ceremony as they lay there watching quietly. The reality hit me as I mounded the earth. As I fell to my knees in tears the dogs ran to me, all three pushing their faces into mine, licking my tears. My little girl was truly gone.

You are so deeply missed, my sweet little one. Such a good girl, one who loved me ever so unconditionally and brought me such comfort when your Daddy CraigCat had to leave us. I'm already missing seeing that furiously wagging little tail, hearing your sharp, short barks of greeting and the clicking of your nails across the kitchen floor as you tag behind me. I love you so. ❤

I Haven't Left At All
I saw you gently weeping as you looked through photographs
You paused for just a moment at one that made you laugh.
But as you turned more pages the tears began to flow
You whispered that you missed me but I want you to know;
I softly licked those stinging tears that down your cheeks did fall
I want to help you understand I haven't left at all.
On those days that you are overcome with sorrow, pain and grief
I rest my head upon your leg to offer some relief.
When you take our walking path I've seen you turn around
Because I know you surely heard my paws upon the ground.
At night while you are sleeping I snuggle at your side
You stroke my fur as you touch that place where I used to lie.
You said it's just your heart playing tricks upon your mind
But rest assured I'm really there, my spirit's left behind.
I know your heart is hurting; it's like an open sore
You think my life has ended and you won't see me anymore.
But for those of us bound tight by love, death is not the curtain call;
It's really the eternal beginning that waits for us all.
~ Author Unknown ~