A pug is a punch line looking for a joke.
Ten years ago my wife and I made a 40 mile trip to Arcadia, Florida to get her Christmas present, a cute, bubbly and totally crazy pug.
Pugs are supposed to be difficult dogs to train to do tricks. Charlie (the pug) learned a lot of tricks.
He would come, sit, sit up, lie down and roll over, shake hands and stay on command.
In fact, I could put his favorite dog biscuit on the floor right under his nose, tell him to stay and he would stare a hole in the biscuit until I said, "OK, go get it!"
Make no mistake, Charlie was not that brilliant looking.
For one thing, his tongue didn't fit in his mouth.
His bottom teeth protruded over his upper lip. If you had stuck a cigar in his mouth, he would look like a Chicago thug.
He loved to chase 2 liter bottles until he got hold of the neck of the bottle. Then he looked so proud.
Charlie was a very clean dog, and loved to run the vaccuum cleaner.
Charlie had his own special pillow in the middle of the living room floor.
Here is the dungeon we sent Charlie to when he misbehaved.
He loved to romp our fenced in back yard. He would enthusiastically chase the mail truck, the UPS truck and any motor cycle up and down the fence line in a futile attempt to chase them away from "his" territory.
Last Wednesday, Charlie suffered a doggie version of congestive heart failure and we had to have him "put down."
My wife has taken this loss very hard.
I miss Charlie very much, too.
He was my friend, my side-kick and the best dog I've ever had.
So long, Charlie.
15 comments:
I would have taken you for a cat person , Joe.
Sorry, really.
I lost a similar pet, the great English bulldog, Harry Callahan .
It was a real loss. Still miss Harry.
Ducky: Cats, like liberals, hate me.
Sorry for your loss Joe.
We’ve sorrow enough in the natural way,
When it comes to burying Christian clay.
Our loves are not given, but only lent,
At compound interest of cent per cent.
Though it is not always the case, I believe,
That the longer we’ve kept ‘em, the more do we grieve:
For, when debts are payable, right or wrong,
A short-time loan is as bad as a long
So why in Heaven (before we are there!)
Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear?
"The Power of the Dog"
Rudyard Kipling
Dear Joe, I know just how you feel.
Coincidentally we just said goodbye to our pet of 20 years yesterday.
Please see my blog.
George Graham Vest's "Eulogy on the Dog" is one of the most enduring passages of purple prose in American courtroom history (only a partial transcript has survived):
"Gentlemen of the jury: The best friend a man has in this world may turn against him and become his enemy. His son or daughter that he has reared with loving care may prove ungrateful. Those who are nearest and dearest to us, those whom we trust with our happiness and our good name, may become traitors to their faith. The money that a man has, he may lose. It flies away from him, perhaps when he needs it the most. A man’s reputation may be sacrificed in a moment of ill-considered action. The people who are prone to fall on their knees to do us honor when success is with us may be the first to throw the stone of malice when failure settles its cloud upon our heads. The one absolutely unselfish friend that a man can have in this selfish world, the one that never deserts him and the one that never proves ungrateful or treacherous is his dog.
Gentlemen of the jury: A man’s dog stands by him in prosperity and in poverty, in health and in sickness. He will sleep on the cold ground, where the wintry winds blow and the snow drives fiercely, if only he may be near his master’s side. He will kiss the hand that has no food to offer, he will lick the wounds and sores that come in encounters with the roughness of the world. He guards the sleep of his pauper master as if he were a prince. When all other friends desert, he remains. When riches take wings and reputation falls to pieces, he is as constant in his love as the sun in its journey through the heavens.
If fortune drives the master forth an outcast in the world, friendless and homeless, the faithful dog asks no higher privilege than that of accompanying him to guard against danger, to fight against his enemies, and when the last scene of all comes, and death takes the master in its embrace and his body is laid away in the cold ground, no matter if all other friends pursue their way, there by his graveside will the noble dog be found, his head between his paws, his eyes sad but open in alert watchfulness, faithful and true even to death."
I am so sorry Joe. It never gets easier. I guess seeing how large Charlie lived it is safe to say " no regrets"
The first time I had to put down my most precious Chocolate Lab "Candy" I was a basket case for months. When I had to put down my most precious Scotty "Goofy" I swore I couldn't do this anymore and I am now on my most precious third dog my Scotty Mix Angus whom I always tell him is lucky he's cute.
They are all special aren't they?
A couple years have passed since we lost our last much-loved pet, a cat who was a cross between a Siamese and a long-haired Angora. He was two months shy of being 22, and we got him when he was six months old. Our son was 7 at the time, and that cat became his. Thunder was like a big stuffed animal and his purr is what got him his name.
It is a sad thing to loose a pet who has been one of the "family." I can empathize.
But, I do have to say that you obviously were unaware of the real origin of Pugs - they are aliens. I know it is true because I saw it on "Men In Black."
The "advice" is concerning deportment on reaching the Gate which St. Peter is supposed to guard: Upon arrival do not speak to St. Peter until spoken to. It is not your place to begin. Do not begin any remark with "Say." When applying for a ticket avoid trying to make conversation. If you must talk let the weather alone. St. Peter cares not a damn for the weather. And don't ask him what time the 4:30 train goes; there aren't any trains in heaven, except through trains, and the less information you get about them the better for you. You can ask him for his autograph -- there is no harm in that -- but be careful and don't remark that it is one of the penalties of greatness. He has heard that before. Don't try to kodak him. Hell is full of people who have made that mistake. Leave your dog outside. Heaven goes by favor. If it went by merit you would stay out and the dog would go in.
oh the quote is from Mark Twain
My condolences to you and Bonnie. As usual, I have to take issue with something you wrote. Make no mistake, Charlie was a handsome dog.
Napoleon Bonaparte, on finding a dog beside the body of his dead master, licking his face and howling, on a moonlit field after a battle:
"This soldier, I realized, must have had friends at home and in his regiment; yet he lay there deserted by all except his dog. I looked on, unmoved, at battles which decided the future of nations. Tearless, I had given orders which brought death to thousands. Yet here I was stirred, profoundly stirred, stirred to tears. And by what? By the grief of one dog."
Perhaps it might be for the best that our pets predecease us, for the alternative is too tragic to contemplate.
Sorry for your loss Joe. I cannot fathom a heaven without our beloved pets.
Pugs are my favorite dogs. Years ago, I bought my son a pug. He still has him. He named him Beast. He taught Beast to crawl all the way across the floor on his belly. It's funny. Beast is still alive, I think he's about 9 years old now. While my son was living with my wife and I, we bought a female Pug and named her Suzie. A couple of years ago, Suzie died suddenly. She was 4 years old. I don't know what was wrong with her, but my wife is convinced it was some kind of Liver problem.
She was my favorite dog. We have six dogs now, none of them Pugs, but one is half Pug and Half Beagle. A Puggle.
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