It all began in Arpil of 1993. I first met Rocky when he was just 3 weeks old. 4 weeks later I went back to the tiny town of Wolcott, NY where he was born to bring him to his forever home. He was one of seven pug puppies born to Jamie and Jenny. This was her first of two litters.
I lived in Fulton, NY for the next 10 years. When my ex and I seperated in 2003, I moved Rocky and I to a small ranch house in Hastings, NY. There is a huge back yard and I knew Rocky would spend a lot of time doing what dogs do best – sniffing. In July of 2003 I was given the opportunity to adopt a 3 year old pug who became ‘orphaned’ when his 86 year old ‘Dad’ was put into a nursing home. I brought Rocky out to meet Micky – as he was already named – and they bonded instantly. They became brothers and were known to all as ‘the boys’.
In November of 2008, Micky was diagnosd with diabetes. All was well until a week later when he became extremely sick. I rushed him to the vets office. They phoned later in the day and said the diabetes had affected his pancreas. They suggested he be hospitalized. I asked if I could bring him home at night and they said yes. This would begin the longest 3 days I had known since I spent 5 days by my moms bedside in 2002, being with her at her time of death.
I brought Micky back to the hospital on Tuesday morning. He was no better. They tried everything. They gave him mega doses of insulin that was fast acting but not long lasting. Nothing was working. His sugar was way to high. I picked him up on Tuesday night and slept with him on the floor. I took him back in on Wednesday morning – the day before Thanksgiving. He was no better. When the Doctor called later that morning she said it would be best if I came in as close to 7:00 p.m. I knew what she was trying to say. They closed at 7:00.
When I got there Micky was still so sick. I knew there was nothing else that could be done. With alot of tears I held him and said “goodnight my angel, sleep well. Go find Gramma.”. It ended quickly and peacefully. I brought him home and buried him in a grave that I had prepared for Rocky – who was 15 at the time. I knew his time was close and living in a snow belt area I wanted to be able to bring him home if I lost him during the winter. Little did I know that I was
to put 8 year old Micky in this grave.
Rocky became very ill in April. It was determined that he was bleeding internally from the high dose arthritis meds he had been taking. With just 3 days to go to his 16th birthday, I once again held my sweet boy who I had held since he was 3 weeks old. I whispered “Cross the Rainbow Bridge, look for Grandma. She is waiting for you. Tell her I love and miss her. Then kick Micky’s butt for going out of turn. I love you my angel. Good night”. And it was just as it was with Micky, very peacefull. I was so blessed to have these wonderful fur babies in my life. I will miss them forever…but I know I will see them again someday.
Run fast and play hard,
| Rocky and Micky NoNo |
| Linda |