My Powerful Pug Past

by Esther
(FL)

I have owned pedigreed pugs for the past forty years, ever since I “adopted” one from an aunt who could not care for hers and wanted to have him euthanized. He was only three years old and I, who really did not want a pet at that time, was so horrified at her callous attitude toward this pop-eyed cutie that I took him anyway.

Thus began my forty-year odyssey with these friendly, playful, smart canines. I knew nothing about owning a purebred dog but quickly began learning that they are quite a responsibility if taken care of properly. First, I had to deal with realizing that pugs will eat everything and anything until they literally burst.

It seems they have no “turn off” button for their appetite, which meant that when I got Muggs from my aunt he was terribly overweight. This also exacerbated any breathing problem caused by their pug noses. So, I quickly learned that despite his begging for food constantly, this did not mean he was starving.

After a while of cutting back slightly on the amount of food each day, Muggs finally got to a normal weight and his breathing became less labored. In order to alleviate the “I’m hungry” begging, I fed him twice daily, in the morning and late afternoon, but not twice the amount of food, of course.

After seeing Muggs scratching himself too much, not just the normal dog scratching after waking up from a nap or something like that, the vet explained that pugs were subject to allergies and, in those days, they prescribed prednisone to alleviate the itching. It worked just fine but wound up giving him liver cancer, from which he died at the age of thirteen. Devastated, I soon adopted a full bred pug someone told me had been given up to the local animal shelter.

By this time I was “hooked” on pugs and had learned quite a bit about them through Muggs. Rikki was also only three when I took him from the pound. I knew that, living in the tropics, there should be no exercise in the heat of the outdoors because of the short noses, so I had a “doggie door” installed from my second story apartment out to a deck where Rikki could go and come as he pleased and do his “business” out there without my having to walk him on the hot pavement or in the high humidity.


Rikki benefitted from my experience with Muggs because I refused to give him prednisone for his allergies. Instead I found another medication with no side effects that was a simple antihistamine, and a monthly bathing in a soothing medicated shampoo helped also. By this time, I had such a love of pugs that I adopted a second one when the pound notified me they had yet another purebred pug that had been given up for adoption. I soon found out why.

Rocky had a bad case of heartworm and the poor thing was probably at least eight years old, coughing constantly. But my heart went out to him. My vet agreed to take Rocky in for a week and treat his heartworm and cough, after which I took him home. It turned out that he had a collapsed trachea, which I found out is not too uncommon in the “pushed in face” breeds. For the next five years, I kept him happy and healthy with cough medicine and glucosamine-chondroitin supplements to help strength his trachea.

He was happy and so was I, all three of us, Rikki, Rocky and myself. Then I lost Rikki to heart disease at thirteen, after which Rocky’s trachea finally gave out totally at age fifteen. Two adoptions later, Maggie and Tinkerbell are with me now. Maggie is thirteen and Tinkerbell’s age is unknown but they are benefitting from the experiences I enjoyed with the other pugs in my life.

As a partially disabled senior, I have found pugs a perfect home companion due to their lively and charming personalities, lack of need for extreme exercise, and contentment to just be lying against me as I sit on the couch or go to sleep. I call them my “Velcro dogs” because they are stuck on me!