PROMPT: Share a Photo or Image
THIS…this, is Angel Cake the Wonder Puggy. She brought me SO much joy, I had to share the “Many Faces of Angel Cake.” The left picture is her looking up at me, after she had been banished to her bed. The middle one is her lying on her back in my lap, in order to get my attention. The right picture is how she normally slept, looking as though she deflated and with her tongue sticking out as per ALWAYS.
She was my unofficial “emotional support” doggy of sorts. She was my constant companion, even when she initally belonged to the neighbors. She would slip through their fence to come greet me when I pulled in my driveway from work, at the end of the day. I was greeted by snorts and grunts of pleasure, with perhaps a bark thrown in, when I opened my door. She’d be on her back, tail wagging vigorously, her wanting her belly scratched. I wish ANYONE was that happy to see me.
The neighbors promised her to me, as they were moving, but ended up giving her to a relative who shut her indoors, left for a whole day or two, then got upset that she had soiled the carpet and would beat her. I was angry, yet sad…that is, until they approached me to take her. I couldn’t believe it! The relative stated she simply couldn’t take her anymore. I immediately left my house with my kids, not even telling my then-husband, to go and get her. She howled, she was so happy to see me! I held her all the way home and cried. She was my fuzzy BFF!
I have NEVER been this attached to an animal…I’ve always loved animals, but they always attached themselves to someone else in my household. She was definitely MY dog. My oldest always stated, “Angel loves all of us, but when she’s with Mom, there’s no one else in the room.” Damned straight!
She loved to roll in dead things in the back yard, so she got frequent baths. She took all baths in stride, because she was being petted and she loved to bark at the soap bubbles, raising her pudgy little paw to pop it, then sneeze in indignation. The folds of her face would gather dirt and debris, so I was constantly cleaning them out — because her face smelled like a human bellybutton! She hated that and would cover her face with her paw, once I cornered her. She was equally enthused with the vaseline that I had to apply to her snout to keep it from getting chapped and cracking. Pugs are year-round shedders, so I would playfully refer to the stubby fur as “pug glitter.” She was a rockstar at my house!
She was always ready to do what I was doing. If I was sitting and reading a book, she was snoring in my lap, thinking she was holding me down. If I wanted to go on a walk, she was ready to go, grabbing her leash and harness. Ironically, I would have to carry her back or tow her in a wagon, on the way back. She even would swim in the lake with us, because she was afraid I was drowning. With her being a pug, she was top heavy, so she would bob up-and-down like a cork. I had to purchase a flotation vest for her, so she wouldn’t drown. She also loved car rides and visits to the vet. She was a little weirdo, but she was MY little weirdo!
Unfortunately, my abusive Husband knew that I doted on her and would abuse her when I wasn’t home. Pugs are notorious for health issues. She developed breast cancer, to which he demanded that I have her put down. I was able to find a pug rescue that paid for her procedure, by the Grace of God! As she aged, she developed a collapsing trachea, so I found holistic medicine to help her, that was still pricey. The surgery cost too much and with her being eleven and a half years old at the time, the vet advised that she probably wouldn’t even survive it. My abusive Husband kept threatening to take her somewhere and shoot her, which made me scared to leave and equally scared to come home and possibly find her gone. I was heartbroken.
The abuse had escalated, so I knew I had to give Angel some dignity. I made an appointment for her to be put to sleep. That day, I took off the day from work. The kids and Angel and I went to the park. She rode on my lap and barked at passing cars. She got to get a whole cheeseburger from McDonald’s to herself, her favorite food! Then, we made the way to the vet’s office….
She wagged her tail, when we walked in, which made tears start to trickle. They took us back there and ran an IV. I stayed with her and held her as her life left her body. She kept her eyes on me, wagging her tail as she passed. She went to the Rainbow Bridge very loved!
That night, when my abuser came home, in his usual foul mood, we arrived directly after him. I held the box with her body. I moved past him and directly to the back yard. I dug the hole with a speed that I didn’t know I possessed. He came out to see what I was doing, all while I had crying and sniffling children.
“What’s going on, hon?” He did a semi-convincing job of sounding concerned.
He looked confused. “Did she die?”
I didn’t even look up. “Yes, I had her put to sleep.”
“Aww, honey — ” he started. I stopped him. I didn’t want his faux-sympathy.
“I did it so she wouldn’t suffer anymore AND so you wouldn’t hurt her.” I shuddered when I thought of her dying alone and scared.
He didn’t have a saucy retort for that, so he just looked at the ground. Love and sympathy just wasn’t his forte.
I took Angel’s limp body out of the box and placed her in the hole, positioning. her as if she were asleep. I carefully covered her up and patted the ground with the shovel to level the dirt. I added more on top, so it would level as the ground settled. The kids and I had one more good cry, then each took turns saying what a good girl she was and shared a story about her. He, on the other hand, said nothing. He just patted my shoulder, looking like the good husband that he definitely was NOT. That night I had another good cry, because I no longer had a furry stalker to console me. No one followed me to the bathroom to stand guard. No more soft snoring to lull me to sleep. Thankfully, that night he didn’t bother to throw a fit about dinner being late.
I chose to put her to sleep at a good time. The abuse amped up so much, that four months later, he tried to harm me and had to be arrested. It scares me to think what he could’ve done to her. I know that sounds silly, but I certainly understand why some DV victims won’t leave their pets. We are all they have!
I miss Angel desperately, to this day. There is nothing as pure as the love and admiration of a dog. Plus, she was my furry little clown, as referenced in the pictures above. Enjoy!