Sad news. One of Pablo’s oldest friends has died. Lucky was my cousin J’s first dog and he was a pug. J got Lucky before Pablo joined our family but while I was seriously thinking about acquiring a pug. Seeing how happy J was with Lucky helped to convince me that a pug was the way to go.
Once while I was living in Jersey City, Lucky and his brother Major (a bulldog) came to stay with us. By then we had Pablo and he was overjoyed to have friends to play with. It was a weeklong doggie sleepover. During their stay, Pablo had his second birthday and the doggie duo helped us celebrate the happy occasion.
RIP, Lucky. I know you’re in Pug Heaven, sniffing (and marking) the grass, chewing on a rawhide, and frolicking with the other pugs.
Lucky at Pablo’s 2nd BDay
Lucky enjoying a Frosty Paws
Major, Lucky’s brother
Filed under pugs, Pugsitting
A pug-sitter must be ever on the alert. For example:
Pablo poops twice a day. Ideally and usually, this means once during his morning saunter through the neighborhood and once again that evening. Occasionally, he foregoes his morning poop. Woe betide the pug-sitter who neglects to bring two poop bags on that evening’s walk! A sad sight to see as, praying no householder is watching, she and the pug slink away under cover of darkness, leaving the damning evidence of her lack of foresight behind.
I have two granddaughters, four grandsons, and, at the moment, three granddogs, six grandcats, and assorted other grandpets. I’ve babysat/petsat many of them over the years. It’s a nerve-wracking business–the fear that a young creature in my care will get lost, hurt, or worse. Not only would I feel bad for them if something went wrong on my watch, but I’d be causing pain to their parents, my children, who would probably never speak to me again.
Out on the deck this morning, Rita the cat leapt for a low-flying bird. She missed the bird and barely managed to land on the deck railing, scrabbling to hold on. C and K told me she does this, safely so far, but it was gut-tightening thing to see.
Pablo is feeling blue with his folks away. He can barely muster the energy to beg for food when I eat. But he’s a trooper. It’s a dirty job but he knows someone has to do it. So he does.