Pugsley is so delicious and yummy that I think of him in terms of food. He has these juicy ham hocks and chicken legs in the front and drumsticks in the back. And his little pink belly and curly tail reminds me of a piglet so I like to call him Puglet. I won't even get into his freakishly human expressive face that sometimes makes me forget he is canine. At the end of each night he sits and waits for me to pick him up off the couch and carry him into the bedroom like a king to his throne, and I oblige. In fact it’s my favorite part of the day. And when we wake in the morning and I lean over for a kiss, he smells like a giant corn chip and it always starts my day out with a smile. I could eat him up I Love him so. My Pork Chop, My Butter Ball, My Sausage.. it's pure organic Love. What I imagine a mother must feel for her child.

Just when I think I can't love him anymore, he will flash me a look or do something so silly or way too brilliant and tricky for a dog mind to conceive and I am putty in his paws all over again. I'll study his face and graying whiskers recalling vividly how he looked so long ago and I can't believe its been almost 12 years and how sad but sweet it is in the winter of his life. After everything we've been through, still together. Forget about cloning and cord storing and stem cells -- they need to invent a pill or something to make dog’s live longer lives. I will never have enough time with him. Never.

Easter is a special day for us. It's the day 4 years ago that I almost lost him. When he had the mini beanie baby stuck in his small intestine and nothing could go in or come out except vomit, a lot of vomit. Green septic bile vomit that was pouring out of his nose the poor baby was so sick and backed up. Fucking vets didn't know jack, treating him for Pancreatic disease and stomach infections for a year misdiagnosing until he was hours away from death on Easter Sunday 2002 with nary a VMD in sight.

It was the one year in all of my mortal earthly existence that I didn't watch the Ten Commandments from start to finish. I was too busy trying to keep Pugsley alive. That meant staying up with him all night whispering calm, soothing words so he wouldn’t give up. I still believe that made all the difference and why he's here with me today. It meant holding his IV bag and adjusting the needle every time he moved so the drip could get into his veins and keep him from dehydrating and going into shock which he probably wouldn't have come out of. It meant trying to get him to sleep while he was in so much pain that his entire body was trembling and praying to Jesus Christ on the day of his resurrection that Pugsley would wake the next morning. And he did. It was a miracle that he did.

This Easter after all the wedding hoopla, I'm looking forward to a quiet evening on the couch with a puggy and his mama. With Charleton Heston, Yul Brenner, and Anne Baxter, the way it ought to be. It’s our own little celebration of being healthy and content, the crosses we bear, the struggles and plagues we’ve survived and all that has passed over. So let it be written. So let it be done.

A Very Happy Easter and Passover to all our friends.