In the summer of 1996, Bully's health started the slow process of deterioration. Arthritis slowed his walk, and while Rimadyl and acupuncture kept him relatively pain free, by the winter of 1997 he could hardly walk without support. Additionally, he developed neurological problems. Fortunately, he never lost his sight and on March 17, sitting in the living room floor, he just looked at us with those big beautiful brown eyes of his and told us that it was time to say goodbye. We hugged and caressed him profusely, uncontrollable tears cascading from our eyes. He was fed dinner, held and kissed.  His mommy unable to make the trip to the vet, Bully and I left our home for what would be our last ride together. Paul Howell, his veterinarian and a personal friend was there for both of us. Just before he embarked on his journey to the Rainbow Bridge, he looked at me one last time and simply said, "thank you, I will always love you Dad."  Through my teary eyes, I told him that I love him so much and will forever live in my heart.  

   Today, his ashes rest in an urn, under the watchful eyes of his teddy bear toy and other mementos,  witnesses to his long life. His pictures adorn the walls of our apartment, his leash rests on the door knob to our bedroom. But Bully was terribly missed, and nothing seemed to subside our pain and suffering. Slowly time began its magic healing process, allowing us to find that sweet melancholic spot in our hearts where we could go at will and spend quality time with Bully, without emotionally falling to pieces.   

   We spent time on AOL's Pet Loss Support Group, where we learned of Little Angels Pug Rescue. At their web site, www.lapr.org, we saw pictures of adorable Pugs that just turned our hearts to mush. However, we had decided that as much as we love God's creatures, we were not going to get another dog. Then one night, reading the testaments posted on the Rainbow Bridge, we came across a poem written by a dog to his owner. In it, he told him how happy he was at the Rainbow Bridge, yet he always remembered how well he had been cared for when they were together. The dog went on to tell his companion that here on earth, since so many of his canine brothers and sisters are unwanted and abandoned, that he would be pleased if his companion were to open his heart to one of his brethren and adopt one of them. 

   Reading that poem, we knew that Bully was telling us to go and adopt a fur baby. We knew that Little Angels usually does not place their rescued Pugs outside the greater LA area. However, we called and left a lengthy message and prayed that they would get back to us. Sure enough, our prayers were answered the day that Sherrie Woodbury called. We chatted and she explained that once a month they held an adoption fair for their Pugs and she told us about the adoption process. We gave her our references and left it that she would get back to us. A few days later, Sherrie called and told us to forget adopting a pug that we should adopt her instead. We were overjoyed! 

   On October 25th we flew from our home in New York City to Los Angeles. We had decided on adopting an older Pug as they're more difficult to place.  We went to Memorial Park the next day, where Little Angels was hosting the Halloween Howl Dog Costume Contest. I went with one of the volunteers to place placards along the highway, my wife stayed with Sherrie. When I returned, I found my wife holding this seven-month-old female puppy named Judy.   

   That night we flew back on the red eye. Judy slept in her Sherpa Bag throughout the flight. When we opened our apartment door and let her walk in on her own, the first thing she did was walk over to the cabinet where Bully's urn is, stand up on her hind paws and look at it. We were amazed.  It was like she was paying her respects to her departed brother. Speaking of coincidences, Judy was then seven months old, which meant that she was born in March. Bully died on March 17th. Let readers draw their own conclusions, we have ours and choose not to share them.   

   Judy's an ok name, but we wanted a name with more pizzazz, so we renamed her Ms. Pasadena, in honor of her hometown and call her Dena. As a true pug, she immediately took over the apartment,  finding her favorite sitting area on the sofa. As a transplanted Californian, initially she was shell-shocked at all of the noises and smells of New York City. Now, she's behaving like a native New Yorker. Blasting sirens don't faze her and she takes all of the insanity that goes on in the city in one big stride.   

   Living in close proximity to Central Park, she goes there three times a day to chase the squirrels and pigeons. When we go shopping we take her along and everyone is amazed at how well behaved and lady-like she is. She's just so adorable that almost everyone stops to play with her. Needless to say, she's spoiled rotten.   

   She just graduated with flying colors from the Basic Obedience Course offered by the local ASPCA. The instructor was so impressed at how well she did that he asked us to bring her when she's a year old to enroll her in the Delta Society training program, so that she can then do volunteer work.   

   She's very sociable and has a very friendly disposition. Needless to say, she's won our hearts over -- we are so very proud of her!  We consider ourselves to be very lucky people because Dena was the one who adopted us. We had a christening for her a month after her arrival and our friends brought her so many presents and coats, that my wife now complains that Dena has a more extensive wardrobe than she does. But then, Dena is the Queen of this house.