Sonny The Pug

My nephew called early Saturday to tell us that Sonny the Pug had passed away. I hated to hear that knowing how attached they were to him and how much it hurts to lose a pet. But there was a slight, hell make that a big difference, in who was the pet and who was the boss. My niece and nephew were Sonny's pets (as well as servants, caretakers, travel agents, chiefs, drivers and just general bitches.) He was so well cared for it made me hope for care that good when I am older. In his old age he was crippled in his back legs and so they carried him in and out, helped him get into and off of his bed and furniture. Sonny allowed them as well as the other pets and the infamous Gert to live with him. And they were lucky for the opportunity to share his days. He was a feisty little fat Texan who was tough to the end. He expected good treatment and he got it. He had a great life with them. Sonny often traveled to Ms to visit the grandparents and he knew that they were honored to have him there too. When my daughter went to Houston Sonny slept with her on the sofa. She still talks about the experience. Evidently Sonny sort of favored big boobs and red panties. Sonny had my niece drive him down to see us on the Coast last summer. He was always in command the instant he came through the door and my dogs looked up to him for his style and his attitude. Rio spent the day trying his best to imitate every sound that Sonny made and they both really wanted to go and chase a few of the ducks who live here. A visit from my niece and nephew just won't ever be the same without the little Texan. And his parents have the comfort that he enjoyed his years with them and that they did their very best for him. I think he is in dog heaven with new strong legs, with Misty, Mr. Rubert, and Marks little dog Martin chasing ducks and giving cats holy hell. Go get em, Sonny!