Yesterday was without a doubt the saddest day of my life. My beloved best friend Pugsley passed away. He was our best buddy for the last 15 and a half years.

We have had him since he was 8 weeks old. He was so small, yet so energetic. All he wanted to do was play and give kisses. He was unlike any dog that I had seen before as he did not even flinch at the site of another dog, but he adored his people Old friends, new friend, family or complete strangers... He wanted to love and just be with people that would give him love and attention (and food of course).

Unless I travelled and was unable to take him, every day of the last 15.5 years has been spent with him. Pugsley was originally crated when he was younger, but I later dumped the crate as I could not justify it and felt it cruel. He happily adopted the house full time. His bed next to my bed became obsolete as he found a cozy spot on our King Size bed, smack in the middle... horizontally laying down to claim as much space as possible. Of course in the morning he would be up at the top with his head on one of our shoulders or pillows SNORING away.... That is of course if he was tired enough to sleep longer than us. If he was up first he would give kisses, or just snort/sniff your face and ears. If we would be able to ignore it without busting out laughing, he would lay back down and wait. If he needed to really get up and go out, he would stand on my back, chest or side, depending on how I was sleeping and struggle to balance himself until I got up. Persistent little guy.

He followed us without a fuss as we moved between Montreal, Toronto, Montreal, Toronto, Ottawa/Montreal and back to Toronto. He always adapted well and was never a problem. All he wanted to do was be with us, and love. Give kisses. Eat. That was his purpose and objective and he was going to succeed.

If making us smile every time we looked at him, he also did a fantastic job. I could not even look at my iPhone lock screen or my screen saver, or wallpaper on my PC without smiling as his pictures were all over. Everyone knew Pugsley. Every presentation I did for colleagues or clients usually included my screen saver kicking in and a picture of Pugsley going up on the screen.

The last year or two, he had started to slow down. After a couple of slips down the stairs, there were baby gates installed to keep him from roaming off from where we were in the house. Last year he became unable to go up or down stairs so we became his elevator. He was never left unattended and all movement around the house required twice the travel. He was my best buddy so where I went, he went. He had lost most of his vision earlier, but still had the ability to see somewhat. He had been deaf for a while too. It broke my heart to think of him in a quiet dark world, all alone, so he was always around us (or on us). I work from home so I was able to give him the attention he required.

The last 6 months his existing arthritis had worsened significantly. Between his lack of sight and hearing and his trouble walking, I knew he was not enjoying himself. It was at the point where I needed to almost hold him to do his business as he would possible trip and fall. I don't want to speak about his struggles to you all as it breaks my heart.

On Friday May 17, 2013 we decided that we needed to do the unimaginable. We decided that we would spend the long weekend with him and call the vet Tuesday morning. We lounged around all weekend, gave him all the love and attention he desired. Monday evening he had the meat, bacon and cheese from a Wendy's Junior Bacon Cheeseburger, some fries and a Timbit. He DEVOURED it with so much passion even though he had barely touched his food for two days (which he would normally vacuum up).

Tuesday morning we bundled Pugsley up in his blanket and drive over to the vet. The vet, who has been seeing Pugsley since 1999, agreed it was time. I will spare you all the details, etc. but there was no doubt we were doing the right thing. To make a long story short (save me from crying even more), he passed away peacefully in our arms. He looked relaxed and at peace. We spent 10 minutes saying our goodbuys, gave him a bunch of kisses on his forehead as we always had, and the vet bundled him up in his blanket even for even better comfort.

We made memorial arrangements and are having him cremated in a private service.

Arriving back home was very hard. Signs of him everyone from his fur on the floor, to a piece of kibble, to a piece of a treat, to his beds all over the house. Going to bed without him snuggled up was sad. Falling asleep to silence and not the white noise of his breathing/snoring/snorting was very difficult.

I have a pain in my heart. The only thing I can do is think that he is in a happy place where he is free of ailments, pain, discomfort - and has an "all you can eat" option for breakfast and dinner, human friends to give him love and attention, and a fluffy white bed for him to rest his little head and fall asleep on.

I miss you my special little guy. I will never forget you and I hope we will see each other again one day