Sol found us on December 28, 2009. She came to us by way of an animal control officer, who picked her up after she was caught roaming our neighborhood. He brought her to our house because he knew we were the local pug people of the area and he thought we might be “down a pug”. We were not missing any of our 3 fawns, but boy was I ever glad to see that little girl. We had met before. Two days earlier a car pulled up and stopped us while we were walking the three fawns. They asked, “You want another pug?” Confused, we inquired, “What do you mean?” They began to explain in more detail about the little black pug sitting in the passenger seat. They claimed to have found her wandering on the side of the road, tried to find her owners but couldn’t and that they could no longer keep her. I was fresh off a plane from holiday travel, now with 3 pugs entangled in leashes being offered a 4th with only a suspicious background story being relayed. We exchanged phone numbers. I explained that I lived right down the street and if they could just give me a minute to let us walk home, I would call them back with information on our local pug rescue group so that we could help with finding the pug a forever home.
Within 10 minutes, we were home and I called them after having already called CFPR to make sure I understood the protocol. But yet, I was surprised to get no answer. Short of stalking and harassing the mysterious minivan people with phone calls and local searches, we came to believe that they planned on keeping her rather than going our suggested option of rescue. So, needless to say, we were speechless when animal control showed up with the pug at our doorstep. The officer explained that the dog had been reported to them by a local person and was later found wandering in our development. Apparently, not only did the minivan people not take the beautiful dog under their wing, they could not wait 10 minutes for me to get back home and get the information we both needed to ensure that this dog was treated respectfully. Instead, they opted to just dump her on the street and go on about their business. It was just pure coincidence that the animal control gentleman stopped by our house before transporting the little black pug to the humane society. I guess being known as the resident “pug lady” has its advantages.
We sorted everything out with the animal control officer and got the little black pug into the care of Central Florida Pug Rescue. The plan was to foster her until an appropriate forever home could be found. Since she had a bit of a cough, we took her to our regular vet to make sure she didn’t have anything contagious that would inhibit her from sharing our home with the fawns.
From our initial trip to our AAHAA accredited vet we learned that Sol was a mature 8-10 years old. They noted that she had a bad case of arthritis in her hips, her front shoulders and even in the joints of her front legs. The good news was that she didn’t have anything to “share” and was then cleared to be around our other pugs.
After the vet visit, she came to our home and we prepared for our first foster girl welcoming. We cleaned her up, fed her, clipped her toenails, groomed her and then spent hours trying to figure out what to call her. Although it did not much matter to her what we called her because the vet also informed us that she was virtually completely deaf. So, it would just be what would we refer to her as since she would likely not “come when called”. We bantered around many choices. But when we finally settled on a name we concluded that it would be Sol. By doing this, we both knew it but did not confess to one another that this made us instant foster failures. See, our first rescue pug was named Luna (which means moon in Spanish) and now with Sol (which means sun in Spanish) there would be no way that the moon and the sun shall ever part again. That would be like keeping the jelly side while giving away the peanut butter side of your PB&J sandwich. It’s just not done. No other name seemed to fit. If we had stuck to the original game plan and only fostered her, then maybe we could have come up with an appropriate name but it was too late. Mentally, we knew she was already in her new forever home.
We waited a few days before sharing this news with CFPR that we had become foster failures. After all, we were embarrassed to admit that we became foster failures so instantaneously. Volunteers at CFPR laughed as we requested to proceed with adopting rather than fostering Sol.
Over the next several months and multiple doctor’s appointments, it was discovered that Sol was considerably older than the original guesstimate of 8-10 and more likely she was in the 13-15 range. This was based on the eye specialist and a teeth cleaning visit. During the teeth cleaning, it was discovered that she had oral cancer. Since we were familiar with the eye specialist and there was and internal medicine specialist next door to them, we were off to see them to get our new old baby further diagnosed. The short version of that story is that they removed half of her lower jaw and she was able to avoid radiation and chemotherapy. They did note that she had a few mammary tumors that would need to be watched for growth, though, as well.
The mammary tumors would need to be removed about 6 months later. Between surgeries Sol blossomed. She learned hand signals for us to communicate effectively. She learned signals for come, sit, down and leave it. We discovered many of her favorite things like walks at a local park, car rides, crashing picnics at the beach in order to gain a bite of hamburger, pasta left overs and her preference of meaty snacks over high carb treats. We learned how to make simple accommodations to make sure the pack stayed together. We wore a pouch to carry her in when she couldn’t walk as far as the fawns. We purchased a stroller for those extra long jaunts to keep our backs strong. For the first time in pug history, we made multiple menu options as we had never experienced a picky pug.
Sol handled each of her cancer surgeries triumphantly. She was a role model to people and pugs alike. She rebounded quickly and never let her ailments get her spirits down. She continued to make friends and positively influence those around her. Another few months later, the cough that she had when she came to us had progressed to the point of serious concern. We took her to our veterinarian and after x-rays, he recommended we go back to the specialist we saw for her oral cancer surgery. Continuing to always be sure she had the best possible care, we sought the advice of the specialist. There they recommended a scope procedure to see where her coughing issues were problematic. She had a collapsed trachea. We were under the impression that the trachea is only one place but apparently there are 3 unique passages of a trachea. Only one of the three areas would be considered correctable through surgery. She did not have that one. She had the inoperable, terminal variety of a tracheal collapse. They suggested that a dog of her age, in her condition (which she had considerable unknown history) would be likely to live comfortably for 6 months to a year. It was fast approaching Christmas and we had not even had Sol for a year yet. Our anxiety level spiked during this time. We tried many medicinal options until we found the routine that worked for her. This had to be changed a few times but minor tweaks were usually effective. However, it was early March, a mere 2 and a half months after her original diagnosis of her respiratory condition when Sol took a turn for the worst and would not be able to rebound as she had in prior times of medical crisis. Sol’s last day was March 8, 2010, a short 15 months since the day we began sharing our lives. During that time, Sol had brought so much joy to our lives that it is simply immeasurable. Sol taught us that you are never too old to learn, to thrive, to be excited, to eat spaghetti or to chase a cat. In a short time, Sol was the life of every party yet in an understated and subdued fashion. She was like the sun. Just as the sun simply shines and how you can count on it to shine in the summer without fail, that was Sol. She was just there, shining effortlessly. Dependable. Soothing. Warming. She was and forever will be our sunshine.
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