I have never really experienced death before. Nobody really close to me has passed away. All of my grandparents are still around. Which at my age, I am very fortunate for. I thank God that I haven't experienced a huge loss yet even though I know loss will come in my lifetime. The only real loss I have experienced was my dog, Pugsley. Nobody prepares you for the death of a pet. Even though you know it is coming for the most part, a pet leaves a different type of hole in your heart.

We got Pugsley when I was a mere four years old, right before my fifth birthday in November 2001. He was, as his name suggests a fawn colored pug dog. As I stood on tiptoes to peer into the back of a car, I saw a basket full of four pug puppies. Three were jumping in the front trying to get to me. Then I saw the runt in the back corner. He just looked over his shoulder at me calmly. I immediately said "That one." And Dad said "Are you sure? He's the runt." And I smiled and nodded and waited for the breeder to put him in my arms. From that day on, Pug and I were best friends.

We went through life together, Pug and human, side by side. We grew up together. Unfortunately, I grew up and he grew old. Toward the end he was feeble. He couldn't get up the stairs. He sometimes couldn't stand. He'd have seizures. It was just a matter of when the right time was for him to go.

The day after finals of my Freshman year of college, my dad woke me up and said "Jo, I think we're going to have to put pug down." I didn't know what to do. I'm typically a pretty strong person. So I calmly called my sister Jamie. As soon as she said "Hey, what's going on?" I lost it. "We're going to have to put Pug down Jamie." And I could hear her start to break down on the other end, which was oddly comforting because at least I wasn't alone. "Hug him for me, okay? I love you."

I went downstairs and found Pug in his bed. He was struggling to breathe. Grandma and I sat down next to him and pet him while my other dog Ollie cuddled up to him. It's an odd thing how dogs can sense emotions. Ollie knew something was wrong with his friend. Although Pug couldn't breathe, at least he still had his appetite. He was eating treats right up until we had to leave for his appointment. Isn't that sick? They call it an appointment. You have to make an appointment to put your dog down. Gross.

Anyway, I carried him to my Mom's truck and held him on my lap. Mom and I rode in silence, as we both pet Pug and cried. We walked into the vet and they led us to a back room. Pugsley was laying on my lap with his head in my mom's. The vet came in and we signed the papers. We explained that we were waiting for my Dad before we did anything. The vet left as we waited. Then pug had a stroke. His left side was paralyzed. Mom looked at him and said, "Just go, buddy. It's okay." Then he looked up at me, he nudged me, and he died in my arms. Just like that. No vet. He just decided to go.

And as morbid as this sounds, it was kind of beautiful. I can't imagine he would have wanted to go any other way than in the arms of his best friend. It killed me, but he wasn't in pain anymore. I immediately went home and spent the following weekend in bed. I'd never felt a loss like that. The house was emptier. Quieter without his snorts and snores and breathing. The doorway was bare when I came home and didn't see his little face.

Then God sent me a gift, Disney. Disney is a pug with a killer personality. The female version of pug. And I couldn't have asked for a better gift in my time of need. No, she can't replace pug, but she made a different space in my heart. I still miss Pug. He was my brother, but I know that he's still around. I see him in Disney, and that makes things a little bit more okay.

Losing a pet sucks, but I'd like to believe that they're on Earth shorter than humans because they already know how to live life to the fullest and love unconditionally. We humans take way longer to learn that. But I think we should all live our lives a little more like Pugsley.