Goodbye, my darling pug

I have no words for what is in my heart.

enjoying the afternoon sun in her mama's arms

From Sasha's (much more literate) auntie:

how do you say goodbye to our first pug, our lovable grande dame.  

i am grateful for every moment you have been with us and all the joy that you brought to our lives. i can't imagine the last 14 years without you. 

i'll always remember the first moment i met you, you funny looking thing, and how i could lift you with one hand and how you always wanted to be near a human.

i'll never forget catching a glimpse of you on top of the kitchen table, after having just shoved a wine glass onto the floor.  

i'll never forget how excited you became over the duck toy your mom dangled in front of your face, and how you would rambunctiously run up and down the stairs. 

i love how you would bury your face completely when sleeping. 

remember i put a stocking on your head one christmas? i don't think you liked it. 

it will be hard not to have you at the dinner table this christmas, but what matters more are all the holidays we did spend together and all the treats the big pieces of food bestowed on you. they loved making you happy--we all love making you happy. 

i guess that's why, as your body fails, we know that what your parents are doing for you is the right decision.

 we don't want you to suffer.

you know, and have always known, how loved and treasured you are. as much as this hurts now, we wouldn't trade it for a second of the time that we've shared with you. 

we love you forever and ever. we let you go with heartache, of course, but more importantly with love and comfort, and knowledge that you will be at peace. 

baby girl there will never be another pug like you.

Family time

For the past few weeks, we've been taking it a day at a time, enjoying every last moment with our Sasha.  She got a little strength back, and was able to show us once again who is le grande dame of the house.  Best were (rare) days where she showed moments of true pug appetite.

Cabbage.  The only thing she really tore at with pug gusto. 

Sasha does love her cabbage.

It's these brief flashes of 'Sasha' that've been keeping us going.

But, she's weakening.  She's eating less.  Her liver is mysteriously failing, while simultaneously pitching her kidneys in and out of crisis and giving her recurrent internal bleeding.  Her vets wanted to do internal organ biopsies and treatment for her presumed disseminated cancer.  We refused. 

She's happiest when in one of our laps, never willing to let us out of her sight.  I'll tuck her onto her heated bed in a comfy corner in one room, walk into another, and look down to see my old girl toddling in after me.

As long as she's comfortable, we get to hold her for one more day.