Piggle by Terri Smallwood / Momma

Late afternoon, Christmas Eve, 1998 , my husband walked in the house, with a bundle under his coat. When I got closer, I saw the bundle move, and I squealed with delight when I saw this perfectly marked baby boston terrier. Except for her eyes….they were blue. Bostons are supposed to have brown eyes, so this was considered a fault in her breed.
Maybe a fault of the breed, but it would become her most memorable feature. She could look at you and convey so much with those sparkling ice blue eyes.
Through the years, I became so close to Piggle. Her real name was Sarah, but she received the nickname from my daughter, and it stuck. Regardless, I loved this little dog with all my being. I have 3 other bostons, and I love them all dearly, but I cannot explain the special bond with Piggle. She touched me in a way that I will always cherish. I long for her in a way that cannot be explained, and I fight to maintain composure when I think of her not being with me anymore.
I knew that her medical condition would be the reason for her passing, and I fought with all my might, to save her. I modified her eating, tried different ways of preparing her food to keep it down, I bought medicine I thought would help her and lastly avoided the inevitable, which was, I could not save her.
Her time on earth was coming to an end, and I was desperate to keep her. But, the day she died, I knew it would be the day. I let her sleep by my side all night wrapped in a baby receiving blanket, and when she got sick in my bed, I moved to another bed and stayed up with her from 4 AM till 8:30 and then my husband took over. You see, my workplace would not understand the need for staying home with a sick animal, and this I knew. Charlie, my husband, stayed with Piggle till her last breath, and for this I will be eternally grateful. He took my last hour and a half of pain on himself, and she passed at 10 AM. I had prepared the box for burial with belongings of hers that I wanted to be with her in the afterlife. I know that they were symbolic, but I did it for myself, to ease my pain. And she was wrapped in a baby receiving blanket and sprayed with body spray so she smelled fresh and Charlie buried her in a beautiful spot next to the dog building where they stay at night.
I know this is a long tribute, but I could go on forever about how I loved and still love that special blue eyed angel.
Farewell till we meet again, my googurl.


Love you, precious
Terri Smallwood