My husband John and I adopeted a 12 year old black pug named Keesha. She had a grapefruit sized tumor on her backside and was very shy. For the first few weeks after her surgery she looked like Frankenpug, and she hid in the curtains under the dining room table. It took about a year before she came out of hiding. I don’t know what kind of life she must have had, but finally she learned to trust us and became a perfect lap dog. This Christmas she spent a lot of her time playing under the Christmas tree and peeking out from the decdorated branches. It will be our last Christmas together. She started having seizures and other neurological problems. We took care of her (she grew more loving every day) until a stroke put her in an unresponsive coma-like state. We bathed her, held her in our arms for several hours and then let her go wherever dogs go in the next life. (I hope God lets me go there) How so much sweetness can live in a little pug body is more than I will understand. I learned more about love and life in the last few months than I have learned in my long life, so-far. God bless the little ones.
Billie from AZ