December 7, 2001 - September 12, 20017When the rest of the puppies in her litter opened both their eyes, she only opened one. Her brothers and sisters all found homes, but as it turned out, nobody wanted a pug with a bum eye. When I learned about this sweet, little unwanted pug pup, I emphatically stated that I couldn’t take her. And then, for some reason, I heard my voice saying, “Why don’t you bring her by the church and let me see her?”
She came, and I saw her. When she sat in my lap and nuzzled her nose into my belly, she was mine. Well, actually, I should say I was hers.
After living alone for many years since my divorce, suddenly someone was there to greet me at the door when I came home from work. I had a friend to cuddle with on the couch while I watched T.V., a warm body beside me in bed at night, and a companion on my morning walks.
On day one, I named her Sweet Pea, but that night, in a dream, her name was Pooky, and that’s who she was from that day forward. The name suited her. As a pup she was soft and squishy, wiggly and jiggly. The sounds emitting from her body (snorting, snoring, farting) were always amusing, and her wagging corkscrew tail made me smile even on the worst of days. Of course, the unconditional love in her eyes carried me along.
Pooky brought joy into my life at a time when I needed it the most. I remember her courageously chasing a flock of wild geese at the park, until they suddenly turned around and started chasing her. Pooky did an abrupt about face and came running back to me as fast as she could. Then there was the evening when she stole a pot roast from the dining room table while I was in the kitchen. I couldn’t figure out where the roast went, and then I found Pooky chowing it down in the living room; it was about as big as she was. Pooky was so proud, looking up at me, her tail wagging double-time. One of my favorite moments was the day she befriended a Great Dane at the dog park, popping her wagging butt in the air, running circles around him, nipping his heals, inviting him to chase her, until the poor Great Dane just plopped down in exasperation as he watched her. He knew he could never keep up.
In many ways Pooky was a typical pug. They are sweet, comical, mischievous, and not too terribly bright… except when it comes to food. The most important thing they’re good for is lovin’. And that’s what Pooky brought to me. As she aged, she became a different dog in many ways, but she continued to be good for lovin’.
I’m grateful to have known her. Grateful for almost 16 years together. Grateful for all the love we shared.