Pugsley P. Puppy: July 20, 2003 to April 3, 2011
About 10 years ago, when the vet told me that Guinther, my 156# rottweiller, would not be in the world much longer, I resolved to get puppies so that he could train them right before he passed on. I found Ozzie at at a dog rescue event in Bookman's and brought him home to Guinther that day.
Because of the hours I worked and how long the dogs were at home alone, as well as because of how neurotic Guinther had become being left alone for so many hours of the day, I wanted two puppies so they would have each other. Unfortunately, Ozzie's siblings had already been adopted.
Four weeks or so after Ozzie came home, I got a call from the same dog rescue agency stating that they found a 4 week old red-nose pitbull puppy by the side of the road, bleeding his life out from every orifice. They asked if I would take him and I said that if they could make him well that he could come home with me.
Two weeks later,I'm standing in Bookman's waiting to meet my new puppy. A lady brought a lively, wiggling, active puppy for me to meet. She handed him to me and he quietly curled up in my arms and stared up at me. I cuddled the cutest little blond, blue eyed puppy that you'd ever seen.
When I took him home with me, 12 week old Ozzie was glad to have a brother, but Guinther was of the opinion that one puppy was O.K, but two puppies were too many, and never took a shine to poor little Pugsley. Guinther never tolerated the rambunctious little puppy anywhere near him.
Pugsley led a charmed life. One night we were outside so he could do his puppy business . I felt something swoop overhead and dive bomb little Pugsley. Later that night I heard the occasional “hoot” coming from a near by tree and resolved that little Pugsley was not going out by himself until he was big enough to fend off the owls.
Pugsley almost died on me again when he was 8 weeks old. In less than 24 hours, he turned from a fat, energetic puppy to a limp little skeleton dog on the brink of death. He would not eat or drink, and pooped nothing but blood. I thought I was going to lose him that day. I finally managed to get some chicken broth into him and get him to the Vet. The little dear had eaten glass and it was cutting his insides as it passed. Two weeks of baby food, cooked rice and chicken broth, and I had fat, healthy puppy again.
The Vet could not believe how fast he bounced back after being neutered, and he was not even subdued after eating a bee and having his muzzle swollen hard by the sting. As a matter of fact, nothing fazed him. He systematically destroyed all my spicy pepper plants, cheerfully chewing his way through all the hablaneros and thai red peppers. He also enjoyed a steady diet of leaf cutter ants, patiently waiting for them to come out of their hill before slurping them up. He even managed to survive the anesthesia needed to get his teeth cleaned, but I was told at that time that he could never have anesthesia again because the Vet found a cardiac anomaly.
Nothing kept that dog down. He loved to take dips in the pond and romped happily with his brother. Pugsley got along great with almost every human that entered his life. He greeted everyone with a great deal of enthusiasm and a liberal licking. He never withheld his affection, having the wettest, quickest tongue in the West, but was only able to retain three commands from the obedience class we attended. He cheerfully remembered 'sit', 'down' and 'crate', and for him, that seemed to be enough.
However, for some reason that no one was able to understand, Pugsley did not along with any other dogs and after a while did not do well with cats. He and Ozzie were attached at the hip, but he was never able to get along with Chowbaby, or any other dogs, taking it into his head to attack at every opportunity. Over the past few months, he occasionally even fought with Ozzie, and would lay in wait for another chance to sink his teeth into poor Chowbaby.
After consultation with the Vet yesterday, while Chowbaby was being treated for his last encounter with Pugsley, we decided that at his age, Pugley's behavior was not going to improve and the Vet counseled that his aggressiveness could soon extend to people. An appointment was made for today and while held lovingly in my arms, Pugsley breathed his last breath a little after 3 PM today.
It is one of the saddest decisions that I have ever made and I am still heartbroken, with tears continuing to stream down my face as I write this. Ozzie is crying too. I know he does not understand where his brother has gone. He continues to search the house and yard, looking for his brother. I left all the house doors open and have let him go where ever he wants. I know that he smells his brother on my clothing, but I have no way of telling him that Pugsley will not return. I am hoping that Ozzie will find some peace and will settle down.
Many years ago I had an unusual dream. It was night time and I was walking down a dirt road in the middle of a forest. Running, frisking and playing as a pack around me was every dog I had ever known. In the distance I could see a bright, misty light in the road. The dogs all ran eagerly toward that light.
I paused for a moment, when a small tortoise shell cat I once knew wandered onto the road.
Because I did not want the dogs to chase or hurt her, I moved off the road to pick her up. She evaded my hands and wandered off into the dark forest. I followed her and found her curled up in the middle of a sleeping bag that was laid out in the middle of a grassy meadow. Suddenly tired, I reclined onto the sleeping bag, stroking the cat as I looked up into the trees and the night sky. I could hear the dogs barking in the distance and somehow knew that I should not follow them. I awoke a little sad, but also with a deep sense of peace.
Pugsley P. Puppy was a loving dog that was not able to overcome his aggressive pit-bull nature. I pray that his next life is better. It is my hope that Pugsley will join that wondrous canine pack and will run and play with those dogs. Perhaps Guinther will be able to teach him some manners.
Because of the hours I worked and how long the dogs were at home alone, as well as because of how neurotic Guinther had become being left alone for so many hours of the day, I wanted two puppies so they would have each other. Unfortunately, Ozzie's siblings had already been adopted.
Four weeks or so after Ozzie came home, I got a call from the same dog rescue agency stating that they found a 4 week old red-nose pitbull puppy by the side of the road, bleeding his life out from every orifice. They asked if I would take him and I said that if they could make him well that he could come home with me.
Two weeks later,I'm standing in Bookman's waiting to meet my new puppy. A lady brought a lively, wiggling, active puppy for me to meet. She handed him to me and he quietly curled up in my arms and stared up at me. I cuddled the cutest little blond, blue eyed puppy that you'd ever seen.
When I took him home with me, 12 week old Ozzie was glad to have a brother, but Guinther was of the opinion that one puppy was O.K, but two puppies were too many, and never took a shine to poor little Pugsley. Guinther never tolerated the rambunctious little puppy anywhere near him.
Pugsley led a charmed life. One night we were outside so he could do his puppy business . I felt something swoop overhead and dive bomb little Pugsley. Later that night I heard the occasional “hoot” coming from a near by tree and resolved that little Pugsley was not going out by himself until he was big enough to fend off the owls.
Pugsley almost died on me again when he was 8 weeks old. In less than 24 hours, he turned from a fat, energetic puppy to a limp little skeleton dog on the brink of death. He would not eat or drink, and pooped nothing but blood. I thought I was going to lose him that day. I finally managed to get some chicken broth into him and get him to the Vet. The little dear had eaten glass and it was cutting his insides as it passed. Two weeks of baby food, cooked rice and chicken broth, and I had fat, healthy puppy again.
The Vet could not believe how fast he bounced back after being neutered, and he was not even subdued after eating a bee and having his muzzle swollen hard by the sting. As a matter of fact, nothing fazed him. He systematically destroyed all my spicy pepper plants, cheerfully chewing his way through all the hablaneros and thai red peppers. He also enjoyed a steady diet of leaf cutter ants, patiently waiting for them to come out of their hill before slurping them up. He even managed to survive the anesthesia needed to get his teeth cleaned, but I was told at that time that he could never have anesthesia again because the Vet found a cardiac anomaly.
Nothing kept that dog down. He loved to take dips in the pond and romped happily with his brother. Pugsley got along great with almost every human that entered his life. He greeted everyone with a great deal of enthusiasm and a liberal licking. He never withheld his affection, having the wettest, quickest tongue in the West, but was only able to retain three commands from the obedience class we attended. He cheerfully remembered 'sit', 'down' and 'crate', and for him, that seemed to be enough.
However, for some reason that no one was able to understand, Pugsley did not along with any other dogs and after a while did not do well with cats. He and Ozzie were attached at the hip, but he was never able to get along with Chowbaby, or any other dogs, taking it into his head to attack at every opportunity. Over the past few months, he occasionally even fought with Ozzie, and would lay in wait for another chance to sink his teeth into poor Chowbaby.
After consultation with the Vet yesterday, while Chowbaby was being treated for his last encounter with Pugsley, we decided that at his age, Pugley's behavior was not going to improve and the Vet counseled that his aggressiveness could soon extend to people. An appointment was made for today and while held lovingly in my arms, Pugsley breathed his last breath a little after 3 PM today.
It is one of the saddest decisions that I have ever made and I am still heartbroken, with tears continuing to stream down my face as I write this. Ozzie is crying too. I know he does not understand where his brother has gone. He continues to search the house and yard, looking for his brother. I left all the house doors open and have let him go where ever he wants. I know that he smells his brother on my clothing, but I have no way of telling him that Pugsley will not return. I am hoping that Ozzie will find some peace and will settle down.
Many years ago I had an unusual dream. It was night time and I was walking down a dirt road in the middle of a forest. Running, frisking and playing as a pack around me was every dog I had ever known. In the distance I could see a bright, misty light in the road. The dogs all ran eagerly toward that light.
I paused for a moment, when a small tortoise shell cat I once knew wandered onto the road.
Because I did not want the dogs to chase or hurt her, I moved off the road to pick her up. She evaded my hands and wandered off into the dark forest. I followed her and found her curled up in the middle of a sleeping bag that was laid out in the middle of a grassy meadow. Suddenly tired, I reclined onto the sleeping bag, stroking the cat as I looked up into the trees and the night sky. I could hear the dogs barking in the distance and somehow knew that I should not follow them. I awoke a little sad, but also with a deep sense of peace.
Pugsley P. Puppy was a loving dog that was not able to overcome his aggressive pit-bull nature. I pray that his next life is better. It is my hope that Pugsley will join that wondrous canine pack and will run and play with those dogs. Perhaps Guinther will be able to teach him some manners.