I adopted my pug Jay on September 28, 2009, and it was the best decision I ever made. I have always been a dog person, and I remember when I moved to the South End of Halifax just the month before, walking through Point Pleasant Park and being so jealous of all the dog owners exploring the park and playing with their dogs.
The moment I saw him I knew he was going to be mine. He has the sweetest face and disposition, and despite an appetite that can never be satisfied, I dare say he is perfection. I love taking him all over the city, to different parks, to different walking trails. I love when he sits with me watching tv at night, I love how he takes over my bed and by morning this little animal is sprawled out in the middle of the bed and I am awkwardly scrunched into one corner.
Once I came home from work and he had gotten into a garbage bag that had been left on the kitchen floor, and he had licked coffee grounds into the linolium. I don't live there anymore but I have it on good authority that you can still see little brown specs in that kitchen.
For his 6th birthday I got him a cake from the Three Dog Bakery, and as he tore into it, he looked up at me intermittedly with gobs of brown icing all over his mouth, in his eyebrows, and on his ears. It was the only time I couldn't get him still enough to get a picture.
For father's day I got my dad a "garden pug". My parents love Jay so much, and refer to him as the "grand-dog". They are the only two people on the planet who spoil him more than I do. I often find my dad napping on the couch in the sun room with Jay conveniently positioning himself on dad's stomach. One weekend dad and I were walking through the garden and Jay was sitting staring at the garden pug, sniffing him curiously, confused. He sat there for some time with garden pug. Luckily that day I did get a picture.
Last weekend I went to a cottage in Pictou to look after my cousin's kids and a few of their friends. Jay came along and we all went to the beach. I don't think I have ever seen Jay so excited. He darted all over the beach from trail to shoreline and splashed in the small pond and river running into the ocean. He would paddle his little body for a few seconds then run into the sand and sneeze and roll and chase a helpless child. It was awesome.
We came home that night and I thought I saw something in his poop. I tried to think of a nicer way to describe this scenario but I can't, so if poop offends you, stop reading now. It almost looked like a little white fleck, and I didn't think much of it until I saw another one the next morning again, so called the vet and made an appointment. I googled "poop worms" for several hours that night, and freaked myself out about what he could have eaten at the beach or something he picked up in the grass. We got to the vet and then ran some tests and charged me $170 to tell me it wasn't worms and he was fine.
That night he pooped out a wrapper. It was white and had letters on it but I couldn't make out exactly what it was but I wasn't intrugued enough to research it any further. I just was thankful to know that my dog had eaten some sory of packaged food and not something with worms.
It's funny the things you become thankful for when you acquire a mischevious food driven little dog. More than anything, I am just thankful for how much joy he has brought to my life, and how grateful I am that I get to love him so much. And to everyone who told me it was a terrible idea to get a dog- I like him more than you. And, I told you so.
Love you Jay xo
The moment I saw him I knew he was going to be mine. He has the sweetest face and disposition, and despite an appetite that can never be satisfied, I dare say he is perfection. I love taking him all over the city, to different parks, to different walking trails. I love when he sits with me watching tv at night, I love how he takes over my bed and by morning this little animal is sprawled out in the middle of the bed and I am awkwardly scrunched into one corner.
Once I came home from work and he had gotten into a garbage bag that had been left on the kitchen floor, and he had licked coffee grounds into the linolium. I don't live there anymore but I have it on good authority that you can still see little brown specs in that kitchen.
For his 6th birthday I got him a cake from the Three Dog Bakery, and as he tore into it, he looked up at me intermittedly with gobs of brown icing all over his mouth, in his eyebrows, and on his ears. It was the only time I couldn't get him still enough to get a picture.
For father's day I got my dad a "garden pug". My parents love Jay so much, and refer to him as the "grand-dog". They are the only two people on the planet who spoil him more than I do. I often find my dad napping on the couch in the sun room with Jay conveniently positioning himself on dad's stomach. One weekend dad and I were walking through the garden and Jay was sitting staring at the garden pug, sniffing him curiously, confused. He sat there for some time with garden pug. Luckily that day I did get a picture.
Last weekend I went to a cottage in Pictou to look after my cousin's kids and a few of their friends. Jay came along and we all went to the beach. I don't think I have ever seen Jay so excited. He darted all over the beach from trail to shoreline and splashed in the small pond and river running into the ocean. He would paddle his little body for a few seconds then run into the sand and sneeze and roll and chase a helpless child. It was awesome.
We came home that night and I thought I saw something in his poop. I tried to think of a nicer way to describe this scenario but I can't, so if poop offends you, stop reading now. It almost looked like a little white fleck, and I didn't think much of it until I saw another one the next morning again, so called the vet and made an appointment. I googled "poop worms" for several hours that night, and freaked myself out about what he could have eaten at the beach or something he picked up in the grass. We got to the vet and then ran some tests and charged me $170 to tell me it wasn't worms and he was fine.
That night he pooped out a wrapper. It was white and had letters on it but I couldn't make out exactly what it was but I wasn't intrugued enough to research it any further. I just was thankful to know that my dog had eaten some sory of packaged food and not something with worms.
It's funny the things you become thankful for when you acquire a mischevious food driven little dog. More than anything, I am just thankful for how much joy he has brought to my life, and how grateful I am that I get to love him so much. And to everyone who told me it was a terrible idea to get a dog- I like him more than you. And, I told you so.
Love you Jay xo
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