I am Mister P. Some know me as the mayor of Pug Town. I am sick. I am not ready to die. I have been through two major surgeries in the past 5 days. My stomach has been cut open twice, my intestines have been repaired twice. I have slept in an oxygen tank, I have been given 7 plasma transfusions, I have a drain tube in my belly and guess what? I am alive and I am going to go home soon. I have a full time angel on my payroll. Her name is Dr. Sarah Evans. Aside from being a surgeon she works part time as a magician and she has worked her magic on me. I will never forget her for her healthy hands and healing heart. The big man has reached out to so many of his friends to garner prayer, love and support for me and it is working. I want to thank everyone for taking the time to think of me, to support me and to write well wishes. There is an old family friend that took the time today to share a pug story about my breed. I had no idea i was as tough as i am good looking. I want to share this story, aptly named A PUG TALE. This comes from a friend, somewhat of a creative mentor who posted this on Facebook today. The story goes like this;
Cal,
I want to pass on a pug story that I was part of. It shows just how much heart and pugnacious will power the breed has.
Last year I was out to a farm in Libertyville with my girls (springer spaniels, Sammy & Belle). Saturday morning almost a year ago to the day. 18 degrees. I ran into the owner searching for Percy, their pug. Normally Percy is let out at night with their other dog a huge rotweiller. That night Percy was let out alone. He never returned. Tracks in the snow showed that two coyotes scuffled and took Percy. When I arrived they had looked all night (single digits) and were basically looking for remains. I pitched in and within 2 hours found a very large and still warm dead male coyote. The owners asked that I check his stomach. They were upset and of course I did. I found two dead field nice in its stomach nothing else. Then I peeled back the skin around the coyotes neck to find the teeth puncture marks of little Percy. That little guy grabbed hold of the coyotes neck and killed him. Still no Percy. I looked all day. It’s a large farm 2,000 plus acres. I left disheartened. Well, next morning (Sunday) when the family comes home, there at the front door is a beaten up Percy. Friday night to Sunday morning single digit exposure. Rush to the Vet, IV, stitch him up and he is now perfect. This is a tough, tough breed. A dog that does not know how small it is. Dogs have played a very big part of my life. I feel confident in saying that he won’t leave you, ever.
Jack