Pugsley Anne Boomer (2002-2019) was the best pug who ever lived.
She who would purr like a cat and snore like a bulldozer. She was my shadow, my protector, and the best listener in the world. She was there for me when I graduated high school, she was there for me as I worked through college, she was at my wedding, and she was there for me when I moved across the country.
Pugsley made it to age 17, old enough to get a driverās license in most states. By the end of her days, she was unable to walk and had lost both her sight and hearing. I spent many late nights having to spoon-feed her special kibble, or carrying her outside on 2 AM emergency bathroom breaks. It was exhausting but god I'd give anything to do it again.
Are you wondering how Jaws got his name?
Jaws, aka Lockjaw (2012-2022) was some sort of pug-beagle mix with an underbite to end all underbites. Though it did require a little more maintenance - Jaws hated toothbrushing days - it never slowed him down or caused him trouble.
When the shelter told us he was food motivated, they werenāt kidding! Whether it was a handful of dropped popcorn or a dog-friendly Thanksgiving plate, Jaws was always excited for his next snack.
Jaws built up a small but loyal following on social media. Between his cute little furrowed brow, bright eyes, and oh my god that smile, he did numbers on Twitter and Instagram. His picture is still floating around on clickbait thumbnails and funny dog compilations. It makes me happy to think that heās still making people laugh even when heās not around.
Baby (2016-2023) had a rough start to his life. I donāt know the exact details, but between his facial scarring and the way heād flinch when you reached out to pet him, I know it wasnāt pretty. His first night home I made him a promise that he would never have to suffer like that again. I donāt think he believed me until one night, when a stray cat ran up and started hissing and clawing at him, and I instinctively stepped between the two to protect him. I brought him inside to clean his wounds, and Iāll never forget the way he looked up at me with those big trusting eyes.
He was afraid of everything - bicycles, Starbucks pup cups, certain phone alarms. If we walked by our neighbors and they had a package in their doorway that he wasnāt expecting, heād be visibly startled. But no matter how scared he was, I was always there for him, and I hope he knew that.
More than anything, he was a huge lapdog. And I mean both huge in size, and in affection. He loved to curl up on your lap and plonk his massive blockhead down on your thighs. Sometimes heād drool. Sometimes he'd fart himself awake.
Babydog passed away from a sudden illness with his white blood cell count. The two of us spent a few moments together in the vetās office before they had to put him to sleep. He didnāt even make it to age ten; Iāll forever be heartbroken that I didnāt get to see him as a grumpy old hounddog, with a sugary face full of grey hairs. But Iām also forever grateful that he got to be in my life, even if it was just for a few years..