I've had Boss Hogg since he was five weeks old. I remember the day Dave brought him home to me. We already had Lina, we were happy with just one puppy. She was only one year old after all and I was not really in the mindset of having to potty train two lol. And then my phone rang while I was making dinner and waiting for my (then) boyfriend to come home from work. I answered, and all he said was listen to this he put the phone down close to the towel where he'd wrapped a little white puppy and I heard his whines. His obvious search for a mama that wasn't there. I excitedly said bring it home to me!, and he walked in the door just a few minutes later.
I was in love. This dog, a little round white ball of adorable emerged from the huge towel Dave had wrapped him in. It was love at first sight you guys. Complete and total love at first sight. All at once I could not imagine a life without this puppy in it. I held him, introduced him to our Lina (who was none to thrilled or impressed by his cuteness), let the kids see him (at the time, Gaige and Dawn were both around three years old). I saw Gaiges eyes light up the second he realized what was happening. He knew too, he knew that he was meant to be ours.
I went into mom mode, how old is he? where did you get him? should we take him to the vet tomorrow? My questions were answered.
His breeder (and I use the term as loosely as I possibly can) brought him, along with his litter mates into the Aaron's store where Dave was working at the time. They wanted to unload these puppies as fast as possible, I believe he said they were moving. Who knows if that was true or not though. They told him they were eight weeks old. I knew right off the bat that this puppy had hardly been weened. He was trying to nurse on Lina (who had never given birth...and never would as she was spayed at six months like she was supposed to be). I guessed he was about five weeks, just by how he was behaving. Far too young to be away from his mama. So I sent Dave to the store for some wet food and some puppy formula.
Of course, before all of this, we had to decide on a name. Our sweet little bundle needed to be called something. Lina's name was hard to come up with. I thought Tinkerbell at first. But that didn't stick. Her given name was Chica...but that just was not original enough for me. My sister is the one who suggested Thumbelina, because she was so small (and because that was one of our favorite movies growing up). But this time it was different, with his curly little tail and round body, Boss Hogg leaped to my mind. And so he was. My Boss Hogg. Boss for short. Hogg dog most of the time. Moms baby until a month ago.
It was like having a newborn again. I set up the pack-n-play in the bedroom as he was having none of sleeping in a carrier in the living room but he couldn't be left out to get hurt. I put a big blanket in there and a pee pad. Every night at about 3 am he would wake up, pee on the pad, and whine until I picked him up and put him in bed with me and Dave. He would be content on my pillow by neck for the next few hours when he would wake up and demand to be fed. I mixed his formula and wet food until he was actually eight weeks old and then I just switched to wet food with a little dry. Then soon he was only on dry food.
His first formula. I'd put a little dry food in it, trying to see if he would eat that but he didn't. He just drank the formula.
Boss was my boy through and through. He hated everyone but me and Gaige. I remember hearing people say oh he won't be good with small kids, they said the same about Lina to be honest. But when I watched him follow Gaige from room to room, when I saw him curl up with him on the couch, I knew that that was a myth. There was no way this could be a common Chihuahua trait when my little guy loved my other little guy so much.
He hopped right in Gaige's car seat. The second picture is me nursing Owen, and Boss Hogg ensuring that I was doing it correctly. He was never far from me. Not even with a baby in the way.
Boss lived a long and happy life with me. For 14 years I lived my life around him, just like I did my kids. Even after we got Prissy, he was still my baby. He was my favorite. He is still my favorite. The thought of him not being in my life was something I could not even think about. Dave would bring it up, saying that he wouldn't be around much longer. I would tear up every single time. Thinking that my life would go on without this dog was just something I was not prepared to envision.
I was in the bathroom. He couldn't handle it lol. I heard him and Owen both outside the door waiting for me to come out lol.
A month later I still look for him when I walk into the kitchen. When I ask Prissy if she wants to go potty I often find myself asking Boss. I bought a small bag of dog food this time, and it almost broke my heart.
On that day, Boss woke up and was fine. He went out and went potty. He came back in and as I was walking into the kitchen to get them their breakfast, he stopped in front of me, something I was used to since he was always under my feet. I said Boss watch out and as I looked down he was laying on his side, not doing much, not shaking, I hollered to Dave that I thought Boss was having a seizure. Since Prissy has them I thought I knew what one looked like. I knelt down and put my hand on his chest, he was breathing, all of the sudden he came out of it. He wasn't bouncy but he was OK, or so I thought. We went about our day as we had planned. Allowing him to roam the house (something he wasn't allowed to do unless someone was home because he frequently peed on the rug in the living room...and that's gross) so he could find a comfortable spot to rest.
When we returned home from our errands, I watched as Boss was clearly struggling to breathe. I knew something was wrong. So wrong. He wasn't moving. I carried him to the living room and he wouldn't follow me back to the kitchen like he always did. He just sat there on the floor, waiting for me to come back and get him. He never waited for that, he always followed me from room to room. I called the emergency vet. They told me to bring him in, I did.
I gathered him up. I held him on my lap as I did every time he was in the car with us. I sat in the exam room holding him in the blanket they had given me. They said they wanted to put him in the oxygen area. He was visibly scared as the tech took him away. I sat there longer. I waited. They brought him back looking a little better.
My hope was short lived when the vet came in and mentioned his heart murmur. We'd known about this for years, it's a product of his bad breeding. On each vet visit they checked it and said that it was the same as the last time. Nothing ever got better or worse.
It was down hill from there. The words stroke and fluid in the lungs floated around my brain until finally I heard we can give him a water pill, but we could still lose him. And I lost my mind. It was moments later, when we were standing there trying to decide if prolonging his life was best, or letting him go, I looked down at his sweet face, his eyes wide. It was as if he was saying mommy do something and then all at once, before I could say give him the pill, he took a breath and exhaled for the last time.
I turned away. I couldn't breathe. The first time I ever felt my heart break was when Ivan (my beloved grandpa) passed in 2014. I felt it shatter in that exam room. It was one of the most awful things I've ever experienced in my life.
Dave buried him in our back yard when we got home.
I am still heart broken.
I will never love another animal the way I loved Boss Hogg.
I don't think I will ever love anything the way I loved Boss Hogg.
-Kristin
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