A Valiant Pug, Remembered

When Val first moved in, more-or-less for good, she of course brought the two sister pugs, Song-hai and Mui-mui, with her, and in mid-1996 she found Chan-ho. Walking the entire pack with leashes was pointless, so we simply didn't bother. They never wandered far.

The pugs were the biggest reason we made friends with a couple down the street, David and Monet, because they had a pug also, a beefy male, almost as big as Chan-ho, named J.C. Pinkerton, or JC for short. David was also a baseball fan -- Yankees his favorite, but he's one of the delightful, sane Yankee fan types -- so whenever he stopped by on a walk, he and I could yak for an hour easily. Our pugs were always trying to be friendly with JC, but he was too used to being a solo pug. It took him months to warm up to our little pack, but eventually a reasonably warm detente was reached. Sometimes David would tell us that, while out walking with JC, neighbors would call out "where's the other two?" We loved that (three pugs are memorably noticable).

Monet amicably moved on, and David met Lori and they married and JC heartily approved of this. And then they moved to a larger home, not so far away but well beyond walking distance, a newer neighborhood on the other side of the highway. Tile floors! JC adapted. Pugs do -- comfortable places to sleep, a known spot where the food dish is, and a small yard is all they really want, so JC was good.

Our pugs, in turn, went away to that great soft blanket in the sky. But, whenever David and Lori left town, we gladly watched JC for them. It was always good to have a pug around the house again. Despite getting on in years (14 or so), and having various health concerns (some of which our pugs had had, or similar), JC was easy to caretake. Our last time keeping him was a few weeks ago, and he was in good spirits and had a typical pug appetite. JC had recently had surgery to remove some skin cancer tumors, but apparently had healed nicely. David came and picked him up, and though he seemed a bit more sluggish than usual, I didn't think anything of it.

Last week David called and told us that JC had taken a turn for the worse, and was declining fast. We talked for a while, and later that night I visited. JC was lying by the back door, apparently comfortable, but he had very little strength left -- he lifted his head to sniff my hand, but showed no interest otherwise. He didn't seem to notice my stroking his coat; he was simply exhausted, even worn out.

Since Val and I had put down three pugs -- it never gets easy, but there is small comfort in being familiar with the process -- I gave what little advice and succor that I could. JC's longtime vet could not give a promising prognosis, and from what I could tell by observing him, it was only a matter of time, or choosing to let him go. It isn't easy news to deliver, but JC was at the point that he couldn't be helped, only kept comfortable for a while. Everything David, Lori, and I discussed came back to the same conclusion. JC's tail was never up -- the sign of an unhappy pug. He had decent appetite but was slowly losing interest. He had a very hard time standing up, and his sides twitched when he exhaled, signs of losing muscle control and strength. David had found him lying in his own puddle one morning. It was miserable, but the cancer had gotten JC, and all that was left was to decide when to let him go. It is the hardest, harshest, and kindest thing an owner ever can do for a pet, but it becomes that or let the wee beastie descend into physical ruin. A clean death is the humane choice, no matter how dismal it is.

JC hardly moved the entire time I was there, at least an hour -- lifted his head a little, shifted a tiny bit, but otherwise just snoozed and snored. He was a sweet pug, a good pug -- well, they all are, really.

Last Wednesday, David and Lori took JC to his vet and let him go.

Goodbye, big pug, our "fourth pug". Very glad to have known you, and so sorry you had to go. You were well loved, JC.

Dogs' lives are too short, and really, that is their only flaw.

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Euthanizing a cherished pet is a rotten decision, but one nearly every pet owner has to face sooner or later. There is no easy way to get to that decision; the best pets are like family. When we let each pug go -- they each had different terminal conditions -- it was a question of the quality of their respective lives. We couldn't do anything more but give them the kindness of release from their misery (and yes, they were miserable; we probably kept each one a little longer than we should, but it was very, very hard to let them go, even as we watched them obviously dying). So, here is a short list of advice I give to people having to make this ultimate choice for their animal friend.

1. The pet's quality of life -- are they ever happy any more? If they aren't enthused about eating (dogs in particular) or being stroked or scritched, they are not happy. Your vet probably won't suggest euthanasia, but will take you to the brink of that choice. Listen deeper to his or her advice. When your pet has nothing left, let them go -- keeping them longer is mostly for your sake, and that's not helping your pet.

2. Be there for your pet when he goes. You've been a good owner this long, don't abandon him now. He deserves that much. And it's not so bad -- they fall asleep, and are at peace.

3. Think about how to treat the remains. Cremation, burial at home, pet cemetery -- decide on something ahead of time.

4. Decide what to do with no-longer-needed toys, leashes, etc. Any remaining food should be donated to the local shelter or Humane Society, they can always use it.

5. It's okay to take pictures. Someday you may want to remember those last moments, or afterwards.

6. You are doing a kind thing. Good pets don't deserve to suffer.

7. When you are ready, later, there are many, many good animals -- dogs and cats and others -- waiting to be adopted, and wanting nothing more than a welcoming home. Rescue another animal that is not in need of the final nap. You'll both be glad you did.