In order to really understand my connection with Pugsley, we have to go back to the year 1994. We had just lost my beloved grandfather after a long-suffering battle with cancer. It was the first time anyone I loved had passed on. Although wonderful family and friends surrounded me, I was terribly sad and feeling very much alone in the world. I didn't know it at the time, but according to his AKC papers, Pugsley was born in McCook, Nebraska on the very same day that my Papa passed.

About 2 months later, I was at the mall on a random Sunday when purchasing a puppy was the last thing on my mind. That was until I meandered into the pet store to check out the puppies as I had numerous times before. As my eyes scanned the 20 or so cages encased behind a plexiglass wall, I took note of all the sad, sickly looking dogs who seemed to have not an ounce of hope or spirit left in their fragile little bodies. I was already in a deeply saddened state and decided I could take no more of the despair in their sweet little eyes and began making my way out of the pet store. On my way out, my eyes scanned one more time on the shiny rows of what seemed like metal jail cells. My eyes happened upon this one regal little soul who seemed to stand out from all the others.

The sign on the cage said Male Pug - Apricot/Fawn - 9 weeks old - $699.00. Back then pugs were not as popular or fashionable a breed as they are today, I had never seen one before and was immediately struck by his cuteness, but there was something more to him than just cuteness. While all the other animals lay sickly, dull, and lifeless, this one little 8-pound pug sat up tall and proud. He was very curious and looking all around. His ears were perked up and he had a look on his face that seemed to say, "I don't belong here, please take me home."

The clerk saw me admiring the male pug and asked if I would like to hold him. Next thing I know, I am in a little sitting room with him and we are playing a game where he unties my shoelaces, I tie them back up, and he unties them again. He must have done this about 10 times while he continued to lay on all his pug charms and wiles. He seemed to know that I was putty in his paws, and I seemed to know that we belonged together and could not bare to let him stay in that place one more day.

At the time, I was living in a townhouse with Mike, my then boyfriend. I informed him that I was taking male pug home that night and he tried to talk me out of it. He pointed out that we weren’t prepared for a puppy, knew nothing about the pug breed, and did not know if the landlord would even allow us to have a dog in our condo. I never would have imagined I could have gotten so attached to little boy pug in about 30 minutes time. I was listening to Mike cautiously discourage any rash decisions, I was really trying to hear him out when suddenly I got very emotional (not like me at all) and my eyes welled up in tears, choking them back in a very shaky voice I said, “ But. I. Need. To. Have. This. Dog." Never having seen me like this before in 3 years, Mike knew I was serious. He comforted me and we began to form a plan.

It was a Sunday evening around 5:00 pm; the mall was closing at 9:00. We lived 45 minutes away and would have to travel there to get the number of the landlord to call and ask him if having a dog was okay. I left a deposit on Pugsley so nobody else could buy him while we were gone. I went over to Barnes and Noble and headed straight for the Pet section. Pulled out a book on Pug health, care, behavior, sat and read the important parts cover to cover. Everything I read was telling me a Pug was the perfect breed of dog for me.

Pugs are lap dogs; they are small but sturdy, lovable but stubborn, even-tempered, exhibiting stability, playfulness, great charm, dignity, and an outgoing, loving disposition. They require minimal exercise and grooming. Holy cow, this dog was MADE for me!! We made the long trek back up north to the condo and ransacked drawers and filing cabinets searching for a copy of the lease with the landlord’s phone number, we found it! I had Mike call and ask ASAP, I couldn’t bare the suspense! I sat on the floor with my eyes squinted and head in my hands preparing for the worst but hoping for the best. It was one of those conversations you hear only one side of and have no idea what’s going on! “Uh huh, Mmm Hmm, ok.” Finally I heard Mike say,” Well that’s great news because she really has her heart set on this dog!!!” No sooner did he hang up the phone and we were back in the car driving 45 minutes South, again.

By the time we got there the mall would be closing in about ½ an hour. I rifled through the pet store picking up everything I would need for Pugsley. Collar, leash, dog food, squeak toys, chew bones, brush, puppy shampoo, film for the camera to document every cute puppy thing that was about to take place! Then the moment I had waited for came when they brought him out and placed him in my arms. I melted and I think he knew he was going home. As much as Mike was trying to play tough guy, he was totally smitten too insisting that he carry Pugsley out of the mall, children stopping along the way to pet and ogle him. He also insisted that I drive home while Pugsley sat on his lap. I resisted at first but in the end was glad I drove because it turns out that was the one and only time Pugs ever peed on anyone. He he he!!

We got him home that night and fashioned a makeshift dog house by taking a huge cardboard box, cutting out a doorway and filling it up with blankets and toys for him to sleep there.

Within three minutes of us being in bed, we heard the most gut-wrenching, blood curdling howling and whimpering you could ever imagine coming from the living room. Plan B:, we took the box and Pugsley upstairs in the bedroom and put it on the floor next to my side of the bed. Lights were off and spine tingling howls started up again. Plan C: I turned on the lights, moved the box closer to me, put an alarm clock in the box with him thinking the ticking would remind him of his mother’s heartbeat. Two minutes later I heard a ruckus, turned on the lights and all I could see was a little pug head bobbing up and down in and out of the box as he was jumping and scratching, trying to make it up to the bed. I admired his determination. I finally caved, grabbed onto the little monster and let him. He circled around the bed a couple times making his way up to my head. He plopped down on my pillow totally exhausted; we both let out a big sigh, and slept cheek to cheek all night. He hasn’t spent one night off the bed since.

They say when one life ends, another one begins. Some people reading this may not believe that or understand how I could compare the life of a human to the life of an animal. But I see it as a soul-life, when one soul moves on, another one moves in. Maybe it is a Pug-thing; I have read many stories and spoken to other pug owners who also hold their funny little friends in such high regard as members of their family. Pugs, after all were bred with the sole purpose of providing companionship and amusement to ancient royal families. I'm not really sure, I only know the joy that he has brought into my life.

Also, Pugsley has turned out to be the perfect dog for me. He sleeps as late as I want to sleep, needs minimal exercise, and his personality matches mine almost frighteningly. We are both fiercely loyal and disturbingly stubborn. He is a clown that makes me laugh everyday. He sits quietly by my side when I am sick. He licks my tears away when I cry. He has seen me through all the good times, holidays, bad times, break-ups, moves, life-changes, illnesses, and deaths in my family over the last ten years.

He is my best buddy and acts more human than most people I know. For this, I feel that he deserves to have the best life and most love that I can give him. Now that I’m involved in Pug Rescue work, I understand the reality of pet store dogs coming from puppy mills and breeding farms. I’ve learned first hand about the stacks and stacks of puppies they have stuck in overcrowded, freezing cold, or overheated warehouses all over the country just waiting to be sold at the very same type of pet stores where I bought Pugsley. The dogs that make it into the pet shops are the lucky ones. When people ask me if I rescued Pugsley, I always say, “Yes, I rescued him from the mall.” Knowing now where he came from, that’s how I feel, but I really feel like we rescued each other. The rest as they say is history.

****I have uploaded some of Pugsley's puppy pictures in his Gallery and will be adding more soon****