In Memory of Einstein the Huge

Over ten years ago, I decided to adopt a rescue pug. I was at a Little Angels Pug Rescue adoption fair and decided Einstein was the one. He wasn't just any old pug, either. He was the only one who sat in the middle of the makeshift dog run and didn't move. He looked sweet, a little sad, and very lost. His face, ears and paws were pure black, and his features such that he looked like a lowland gorilla! I joked with my then boyfriend that he looked perfectly at home on a couch, cracking open a beer and watching the Superbowl all day.

But he was already spoken for. Another woman got there first. So a month later, I went to the next adoption fair...and there he was again! What happened? I didn't care - all I knew was that we was going to be my dog!

A few weeks and housechecks later, Little Angels decided I'd be a good mom for my big furry gallump. He was a whopping 30 pounds - huge for a pug - and the vet was pretty certain he was a product of a puppy mill. His small paws showed that he had been malnourished as a puppy, and a lung infection that was never treated left him with scar tissue in his lungs so he would never be one to play or fetch or even walk for very long distances. But boy could he snuggle and lick. He was a rare double coat, so the hot summers made his breathing even more labored, so we didn't leave the house much then. When I adopted Molly six months later, he seemed to relax even more and let her take over being top dog in the house. Those dogs were with me through five moves, a few rotten boyfriends, one fabulous boyfriend-then fiance-now husband, and a baby.

Einstein started to go downhill pretty rapidly over the past few months, right after his 16th birthday. An eye infection left him blind - with our vet and medicine, nothing got rid of the green gook and we were told he would need to lose the eye. But then, we knew he wouldn't make it through the surgery because of his weak lungs. So we waited. But when he lost control of his bladder and couldn't walk to relieve himself, and howled as though no one was in the room, we knew it was time. Einstein left us this morning, just a few hours ago.

I loved this dog and will keep his memory close. He was an amazing dog, full of love, a dog who would willingly put his paws around your neck and rest his head on your shoulder. One who was much more comfortable when he had some part of him touching me - a paw, a chin, whatever - as he slept. I will always be grateful, too, to the organization who rescued Einstein from death at the pound over ten years ago when his previous owners decided they'd like to travel the world and had no time for a dog. You can find them at www.lapr.org.

Goodbye my sweet Einstein.