My Quincy pug has crossed the bridge

Sometime during the night, Quincy passed in his sleep. 

Quincy came into rescue in March of 2009 with Isabelle. They both were in pretty bad shape. 

Three out of four nails on every paw had grown so long that they curled into a circle.

He was blind in both eyes from PK, a condition that could have been treated with proper vet care. 

He weighed 24.75 pounds, far too much for a short pug. He weighed so much that he couldn't even lift his leg to pee like a boy dog.

He had arthritis so bad that he shuffled around instead of walked.

His teeth were so rotten that all but two had to be removed. 

His skin and coat were in horrible shape, dry and lifeless.

He had a mast cell tumor about the size of a thumb tip on his neck and two other smaller tumors. 

But Quincy was a fighter. He did well during his surgeries and through three months of chemotherapy. He lost about 8 pounds and his coat came back to life. As he lost weight, the arthritis improved, and he loved to wander around the back yard, sniffing everything. I can remember being so excited the first time he lifted his leg to mark an azalea bush because he was finally able to pee like a boy. 

I also remember the first time he stood up on his back legs, wanting to get on the couch with me. That was about a year after he came to me. He had lost enough weight and gained enough strength in his legs that he could do it. It's the little things. 

Since he couldn't go for walks, he exercised by swimming. He loved to swim. 

 He was part of the family, enjoying birthday cake

and having his picture taken with Santa.

This woman came to a party, just to hold Quincy and love on him.

He was on television, for a story about our dog park. 

He was in the parade in November.

He presented thank you certificates to volunteers for Pugapalooza, after I snuck him into a meeting covered up like a baby. 

I bought a stroller for him so he could be included in walks around the neighborhood. He would sniff the  air, sometimes standing up in the stroller as if to look out.

Quincy loved his food, like pugs do. When it was time for a meal, he got so excited that he ran laps in the kitchen and barked until I put the food bowl in front of him. When it was time for bedtime treats, he would sit, curly tail wagging, with his head up, waiting patiently for that treat that came from above. 

He loved to sleep with his chin on someone's foot.

He and Isabelle were rarely far away from one another. I would find them snuggled together in one bed, usually the smallest bed on the floor. 

In the last few months, Quincy developed signs of canine cognitive disorder or doggy dementia. He sometimes got "lost" in the house and would bark until I went to bring him back to his bed. He forgot his potty training and had to wear bellybands all the time. That didn't stop him from trying to mark wherever he felt it was necessary to say "Quincy was here." 

Lately, he started to sleep with his chin on my shoulder, snoring softly in my ear. Until it got really loud and I had to move him further down the bed. On cold nights, he liked to start out under the covers, but then he would get hot. Wherever he slept, he liked to be close to me and Isabelle.

Every night after bedtime treats, he would climb in my lap. I held him close, told him I loved him and that he was my Quincy pug. I guess I knew that he and Isabelle would probably never be adopted. Few people are willing to take on a pair of bonded senior dogs with health issues. That was okay, though. He would always have a home with me. After the life he had, it was the least I could do to make sure he was loved and cared for, for as long as I could. 

I would do it all again, even knowing that it would end like this. 

Photo by Erin Kass

Run free, my little Quincy pug. 

Where you are, there's no more dementia, 

no more cancer, 

no more arthritis, 

no more blindness.

You can pee wherever you want. 

You can eat as much as you want.

You can swim or run or nap, whatever pleases you.

The treats and Frosty Paws never run out. 

There is always a lap available.

There is always a sun puddle to nap in.

There is always someone to love you like you deserve to be loved.

Please say hello to Kirsty and Lapis and Sassy. 

They will take care of you and show you the ropes.

Little man, you were so loved. I hope you knew that. 

You will be remembered and missed. 

In memory of Quincy, please hug your furbabies and tell them you love them. 

Quincy, 2009-2011