When our phone rang last night at an unusual hour, my stomach sank. It was my parents. Larry seemed unusually bright and apologized for not being able to get the time difference straight. The conversation continued, and I was still curious, something was missing.
Finally, after about 10 minutes of "How's the weather" conversation, my Dad said those dreaded words, "I hate the be the bearer of bad news..." After an amazing, and hysterical 15 years, our Dear Sir Pugsley Henri Berg passed away in my Dad's arms eary Saturday morning.
He's been the best friend anyone could ever ask for and anyone who knew Pugsley, instantly recognized his unique, loving, caring and comical personality. We knew him as, "Pugger, Rugger, Pug, Rug-Rug-Rugger, Bastard Dog, Joe-Schmo, Buddys, Puggy; our Pugsley." Pugs was famous for learning how to sneeze and "squeal like a pig" on command. In his youth he'd chase us kids around the house like a mad man with his turbo-boosters. As he got older he slowed down but his heart and his fiesty nature never budged.
Our family will never forget when we were on a mission to adopt a dog, my Dad (after seeing the movie "Milo and Otis") said he would never get a dog who's ass hung out all the time. Well, my brother and I won that battle and Pugsley and my Dad became unseparable companions.
My Dad laid Rugger to rest in our backyard; this also his playground. He was buried with his "boo-scow" a.k.a. his bed, so he may forever sleep in peace.
I'm terribly sad you aren't with us, Pugsley, but you've given our family an abundance of happiness and wealth of laughter that will never be matched. You changed our lives the instant we found you, and you will live on forever in our hearts.
I love you Puggy. I miss you so much.
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