Multum in Parvo

"Dogs are miracles with paws." ~Attributed to Susan Ariel Rainbow Kennedy

"Dogs' lives are too short. Their only fault, really." ~Agness Sligh Turnbull

"Dogs are not our whole life, but they make our lives whole." ~Roger Caras

"Happiness is a warm puppy." ~Charles M. Schulz

"Some ask why is it that dogs don't live very long, and they say it's so that we can have a lot of dogs in our lives....But I know how much we wish it could be just one." ~Our veterinarian, Dr. Jeff Kelly-Day on the day that we went to put Maddy the Pug to sleep, August 30, 2010

Multum in Parvo.

It is Latin and it means "much in little".

That is the phrase most used in describing the breed of dog called Pug. And it's a perfect way to describe this dog.


My husband was attracted to the breed because they are tough little dogs. Small, yet fierce. And not yappy. They can bark, a low, distinguished alert, without even moving their lips. A "wohmph!" sound. They are pretty low-maintenance as far as dogs go. They require very little food, exercise, grooming or space. They are not working dogs. They are not driven to "do" anything other than to be your friend. They do not need a job to do. And they are not particularly super intelligent, which is actually a good thing because that means they are not super inclined to get themselves into trouble if they are bored of left alone. They are content to sleep many hours a day in a warm patch of sun. Excellent for working people. People say that they are "so ugly, they are cute". I couldn't disagree more. I see a Pug and I think, Regal. Beautiful. Expressive. Special. You don't miss them in a crowd. And you certainly can't overlook one in your own home. Even if you were blindfolded, you'd know it was there...by the sounds. The constant snorting, snuffing and snoring. After awhile you forget that "normal dogs" don't make these sounds. It is a great symphony of life!

We picked our Maddy out of a litter of seven pups. We wanted a female dog and she was the only one still available. She was the runt. When we brought her home at six weeks old, she fit in the palms of our hands. Her little face was so black that in photographs you could not make out her eyes. She was so tiny that when she'd try to go potty, the sheer force of the effort would cause her back legs to lift up off the ground! I thought something was wrong with her, perhaps she was deformed. :) But she grew out of that, eventually. We tried keeping her in her crate at night. Oh the wailing! Oh the whining! Oh the drama! Eventually, she spent her nights in the laundry room, where she eventually learned that her life was not over when it was bedtime. Later, we discovered that Pugs are one of THE MOST DIFFICULT breeds to potty train. As it turned out, it was much like having a child--TWO YEARS or so before Maddy finally got it. Oh my gosh!!! Awful.

And a couple of years later, we noticed a red spot near her collar, and then some hair loss and then some itching.....and some more hair loss and some more itching.....and so began the allergies that plagued Maddy the rest of her days. And we tried eeeeeeeverrrrrrrything. Three different vets, special diets, skin biopsies, steroids, expensive prescription shampoos, supplements, cleaning products, medicines, and probably thousands of dollars later, and it was just "one of those things" that we all had to manage & deal with. We tried, we really, really tried. Poor girl.

But the early days of potty training and the years of managing an unknown allergy were only the tough parts. There were years and years of wonderful memories. I heard once that the very best way to grieve a loss is to just talk about it. It's the best way to honor the memory and know that healing is happening. Because if you don't talk about it then healing is not happening. If you're not willing to "go there", and maybe even cry a bit over it, then you're stuck.

I don't wanna be stuck.

Not over this dog, and not over anything in this life.

So I'm gonna set an example here and take out my emotions and LOOK at them. I'm gonna grieve, in words. And so go on with life.

Madison Ann Lal, Pug Extraordinaire was born on July 19, 1998 and lived to be 12 years old. We said good-bye for now to her on August 30, 2010. We called her Pug a lot. Or Puggy. Or Pugus-Among-Us. Maddy. Madd-Ann. Madacino.

She was a year old when our son was born. Perfect timing. She would sit on the arm of the sofa when I would nurse my son, standing guard over us. If a car dared to drive by, she'd go over to the window, dispatch a warning bark, and dutifully return to our side. When Thomas was a toddler and just learning to crawl, he'd chase after her and her little half-curled tail (her tail never curled they way a "proper" Pug's tail should curl) would inevitably whack him in the face, and then from time to time, she'd turn around and lick him in his little baby face and he'd be appalled! "Well son, what did you expect?", I'd ask. When he was a bit older, maybe two years old, Maddy was sitting down at the threshold of the open back door, surveying her kingdom, the back yard, when Thomas came up beside her, put his little arm around her back, looked out to the yard and said, "How's it going, doggy? How's it going?" I can still see their silhouette. Our neighbor was a mail carrier and she still managed to have a special soft-spot for dogs. She would keep a box of treats just for Maddy.

Maddy LOVED to chase birds. It was her Passion. Her reason for LIFE. I have never witnessed a creature so majestic, so sure of herself, as Maddy in pursuit of a bird. She was determined to capture one. We teased her about what might become of her if she ever did find success in that area. She gave them a piece of her mind, even into her elder years. I can still see her at the sliding glass door, standing straight and alert, dispatching her fierce, low Pug-barks. She WAS multim in parvo. She lived her destiny every single day.

We used to offer her table scraps. I would give my husband the excuse, "It's good for her coat!" whatever it was that I was feeding her...cheese, eggs, etc. Yea right. But one thing we did especially always share with Maddy was our Chinese food. We reasoned that because Pugs originated from China that she'd appreciate some food from her "homeland". ;)

When Maddy was younger, we'd take her on walks. She actually did have a lot of energy in her earlier years. Looking back, it's kind of foggy now, but she was even so excited when company came over that she pretty much needed to be in another room for awhile. My son doesn't even remember that, but it's true. But then gradually, she'd slow down a bit. We would be walking awhile and she'd just stop. Just put on the pug-breaks. And stop. And sit. And that was it. It was as if she was saying, "Just go on without me guys. This is where I stop. Nice to have known ya." Silly girl. Or smart girl, I guess, because she'd get carried all the way back home.

I remember trying to trim her black toenails. Oh my gosh. One time I cut too close and nicked the blood supply! Oh I felt so terrible!!!!! I didn't have any of that special powder on hand to stop the bleeding, so it just needed to stop on it's own. Whatta scene! From then on, it was trips to the groomers where professionals could do the work.

We took her camping once. She was a good girl. She liked to sleep right between our sleeping bags in a warm, soft spot. The Stellar's Jays would swoop down and eat all her dog food. She never did catch one of them either.

In her early years, she had a special spot on the couch that was hers. She'd sleep on that pillow all day when we were at work. Eventually, I got tired of cleaning the couch so she had to live on the floor, like a dog. Poor thing. ;)

My husband especially appreciated Maddy's care-taking and devotion when he was feeling under the weather. He'd lay on the couch, and Maddy would lay right on top of him, keeping him warm and making sure he was okay. She was a good dog. A good, good dog.

Maddy came in handy while raising little kids. In addition to keeping our yard clear of any pesky birds she would find her duty in stationing herself directly beneath the high-chair, keeping a keen alert for any stray crumbs that would fall. A dust-buster with legs. She'd hoover up anything that hit the floor. I remember one time I was getting a jar of spaghetti sauce out of the refrigerator and it fell and hit the rug in front of the door and sauce was everywhere!!!!! Maddy to the rescue!!! That dog licked that rug so clean that I think it was in better condition AFTER she'd cleaned up than before! That was Maddy, always there to help out whenever needed.

When we brought our kids home from the hospital, she administered a very thorough sniff, inspection, welcoming them into the pack. And oh how she would love to nestle in any blankets that fell to the floor from Thomas' bed.

One Easter, while most everyone was out back watching the egg hunt, I was in the kitchen slicing ham and talking to one of my brothers. A pretty good-sized slice of ham fell and hit the floor and of course, Maddy was all over that! And that stupid little dog, multum in parvo to the max, got herself in some big trouble because she literally bit off more than she could chew. She choked on that ham and even fell over! I remember exhchanging a look with my brother that basically said, "Oh crap! What do we do?!" Eventually, she recovered on her own and I managed to get the ham away from her and cut it up for her. Oh good grief, that dog!

I started walking fairly regularly for quite some time, a year or more, and I'd try to take Maddy along, but her stamina wasn't really there as she began to age. I wanted a walking partner. So along came Belle. A ten week old yellow Labrador Retriever. Maddy would rather we had not made THAT decision. She did not appreciate this kid--at all! She made it known, in no uncertain terms that yes, she would like Belle to take a walk, yes indeed--a long walk, off a short pier. Maddy was about eight years old at that time and she gave that stupid yellow pup many stern talking-to's. I regret not socializing her more when she was younger. It would have helped. But eventually, the two dogs made their peace and they found a wonderful common interest.

Sunbathing!

Glorious sunbathing! Countless morning hours whiled away soaking in the warmth of the sun streaming through the sliding glass door. First in the living room, then as the sun would shift in the sky, they'd mosey on to the bedroom to take advantage of the best light. They'd lay mostly apart , but sometimes touching, Maddy almost nested right up against her former nemesis...all in the pursuit of warmth. I'd love to see how Maddy's sweet, wrinkled face would look when she layed her head down between her paws, totally blissed out by the comforting warmth of the sun and a good nap. Whatta way to live!

Twelve years. Three moves. Two children. One Lab. Lots of Chinese food.....

One tumor.

She had a lump on her side and we didn't know what it was at the time and eventually it burst and it bled and we took her to the vet and they removed it and sent it off for a biopsy. "Maddy has a very bad cancer. I'm worried about her. It could be weeks, or it could be months" , said the vet. She had a heck of a time recovering from her surgery. She wouldn't eat. Wouldn't even get up. We wondered, "Is this it? Is it time?" "The difference between a minor surgery and a major surgery is that when it happens to someone else, it's a minor surgery, but when it happens to you it's a major surgery. This to Maddy is a major surgery. It's like putting a 90 year old woman thorough this and it's just gonna take some time for her to recover.", said our vet. He was a very gentle advocate for her. For doing what was the very best thing for Maddy and the most reasonable thing for us as well. With his encouragement, we nursed Maddy back to to life and she enjoyed a few more wonderful months of love and comfort with us. She barked at birds again. She gained her appetite again.

We let her eat anything she wanted to--because why not? What are you saving it for anyway? When your days are numbered, and all of ours are, take it all in! Take in all the joy you can!

She was much better. For awhile. Then we noticed that when she went out to go potty, she'd run into things. She'd get lost. She'd walk around in circles. And we realized, she couldn't see. She couldn't find her way back. And we just knew.

They said we'd know when. And we did.

It was the first day of school. We took our kids to school, kissed them, wished them well, and walked out of the school. Not even to the car yet, I called the vet on my cell phone. "Maddy's not doing well, and we were wondering if the doctor can see her." They got us in a half hour later. We wrapped her in her blanket. And the doctor agreed. It was time. He left us alone with her for a few minutes and we sobbed like babies. I sat in a corner flipping through the pages of a magazine...desperate for any distraction from reality. Arvin was so very good to her. He held her, and cried over her, and loved on her, and so beautifully prayed over her, finding words where I could not. He was so brave. Words are usually my medium, but when it came to this time of good-bye, I couldn't even speak. I remember standing up and putting my face down right to Maddy's. Just feeling her velvet fur, face to face, and nodding my head, hoping and trying to send a heart message to her, that's everythying's gonna be okay, that it's alright. That we loved her very very much. One thing I did manage to speak that day to Arvin and to the doctor was, "It's still worth it. It's still worth it. It's still worth it."

We brought her home in a nice box that the office provided with a lovely label on the top signed with the names of all the staff. We put the box down for Belle to smell. And she did. Thouroughly. She knew.

And Arvin was such a champ. He and Thomas prepared a wonderful resting place for our puggy. Right beneath our maple tree, in the sun, where she'd like to soak in the warming rays. Norah tossed a few jasmine flowers in for her, and Arvin planted new grass seed above her and it's flourishing and beautiful and green.

We miss our girl.

We talk about her a lot. And we can do it more and more without dipping down into too much sadness....though it's still there a bit. We're beginning to share memories of her and remember all those good times.

It was an absolute honor to share life with that little creature for twelve years. Many dogs do not get that lucky to have had the life she had. To be loved and cared for by one forever family all their days. Many people do not get that lucky to have enjoyed the companionship of a good dog, much less the incomprable joy of Pugdom. We knew when we brought her home that someday we'd have to say good-bye. And saying good-bye to her was one of the saddest things we've had to face. But the journey from hello to good-bye was so, so incredibly worth it.

Life is worth it.

Some say that dogs are in our lives to teach us something. What I learned from Maddy was: to enjoy sweet comforts, take time to rest, be bold when you need to and to always protect those you love.

And now that she's resting under the maple tree, she managed to teach me something else as well:

Love is never convenient.

It's never easy.
It's often messy
and certainally painful at times.
But it's worth it.

And life...

life is short.

So let's go out and give and get as MUCH LOVE as our hearts can hold, every single day we have breath.

I would do it again in a heartbeat.