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Amos, our beautiful and beloved little pug, had to be put down this past Monday afternoon Monday. Suz and I are quite heartbroken.Â Â it came as a huge shock to us also, and happened very fast, as life (and death) sometimes does.
On the Saturday, Amos was strangely lethargic and disinterested in food – and he was NEVER disinterested in food, that dog – then on Sunday, he just became more and more lethargic, and then actually passed out, and we rushed him into the emergency vet. We were told he was extremely anemic, and was actually bleeding internally, losing a huge amount of blood. He had to stay in the intensive care unit over night, and get a blood transfusion. The prognosis was not good: Immune-mediated hemolytic anemia, which means his immune system was destroying his red blood cells.
The blood transfusion gave him enough renewed energy to have a last visit with us in the morning, which we’re so grateful for. He didn’t appear to be in pain, just exhausted and weak, and so happy to be with us. An amazing gift to get to be with him right to the end.
I feel like this little ball of fur taught me such an incredible amount about love, in such a profound and simple and direct way. I’ve never been attached to a pet in the way i was to Amos, though there have been others animals in my life over the years. Amos was the first dog that Suzie and I had together, and he became a part of our family from the first moment we brought him home. He had such a special spirit. I never really knew it was possible to love a little creature so much. He made my heart bigger.
We adopted him when he was five years old, from this great organization called Pugalug. We had the amazing experience of watching him come into his own as only a rescued dog can: over the two years we had him, he transformed from being a pretty timid and submissive little pug to being confident and playful and friendly to strangers and other dogs. He loved little kids, and kids loved him. Especially our nephew Kai.
Amos made us laugh all the time: the little dance he would do before meals, working himself into a frenzy of excitement for food; his weird sneezes and noises and snorts, especially the “snort of love” that he would give when you’d rub his chest in a certain place. The sighs of satisfaction, the way he like to rest his chin on something when he slept….I could probably write all day about all his little Amos-ness. He was a lot of dog, a lot of love and a lot of personality wrapped up in a small package.
Good bye Amos, our little friend, truly and deeply missed.