Igor the Pug Passes

Me and Pug It is quiet in the house.

No snorts or snoring from the family room, where Igor used to lie in his favorite chair.  The first thing I did every morning was tiptoe in to see if he was awake, the last thing I did at night was kiss him goodnight.  In his last days, he couldn't get out of the chair by himself, so the first minutes of my day were spent with one ear cocked for him to awaken.  Soon as I heard him yipping, I'd lift him down from the chair, accompany him outside, and get him his breakfast.

He died in that same chair yesterday.  He was sitting on my lap, surrounded by his family, when the wonderful Dr. Duggan injected the final medicine.  One minute he was snoring, the next he was silent.  I felt such a sense of relief for him and from him.  

He was fading fast the last couple days.  Despite that, he received visitors from people who wanted to pay their last respects.  There were floral tributes:

Tina's Bouquet

The bouquet my sister brought for him.

Sharon's Flowers

The flowers Sharon brought.

And special gifts:

Aids to Afterlife 2

 Leigh's bag full of Aids for the Afterlife.  It includes:

Hearts to remember us by

A mini Dog Fancy magazine

A chewie catalog

An album of photos of fav people and places

A hedgehog (Igor's fav stuffed toy)

A rose to remember nature with

Currency and jewels…just in case

And a key to the unknown

(We think that Ted Kennedy was very happy to run into pug on the road to the afterlife, given that he was so well stocked with the essentials.)

He spent lots of time getting love and hugs:

Annie Lewis Pug

                                       

And  receiving phone calls from those far away:


Igor Reed 2

This is Igor listening to his most beloved friend Reed say goodbye.  For Reed's touching tribute to pug, go here.

When the time came, we were ready, if teary-eyed.  And off Igor went, to new adventures in a different place.

This morning I washed out his water dish and gathered up things to bury his ashes with–his final bag of chewies, the little bandanna he got at his last grooming, the mat his dish sat on that read, "I love my dog."

And now all there is left to do is learn to write without the sound of snoring as my sound track.

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