Click here to see a little video of Olive.

Meet sweet little Olive, who came to us from a shelter. We cleaned her teeth, spayed her and repaired a hernia. She had some ear problems which have left her deaf.

Olive has an cute bow-legged waddle when she walks as her kneecaps are displaced, but that does not slow her down at all. She loves to bounce around with the pugs in her foster home and she gets along great with everyone! She has discovered that her pug brothers make excellent pillows! She is a busy little girl and loves to explore every inch of her foster home. She is definitely a velcro pug as she follows her foster dad everywhere. Being a typical pug, she does a cute little happy dance at meal time.

Tipping the scales at about 12 lbs, she is an adorable pint-sized bundle of love. Wouldn't you love to add her to your family?

Click here to learn more about Olive.

      I hardly think that Trailer Trash Nash set out to be on a hero's journey. Yet, that is exactly what he did, he became my hero. My love affair with older pugs started with my friend Gene's senior pugs, Mr. Smudge and Phylis McWillis. Their affection, personalities, antics and gratitude (especially for food) made them irresistible. In the fall of 2007, I started to look for my own pug baby and my friend Emily, being a dog lover herself, made it her mission to pair me up. Well, it was when I saw his big brown eyes looking up at the camera on the rescue page that I decided to make the jump. Having never had a dog of my own, it was scary. Nonetheless, I forged forward and set up the meeting date. Nash, as he had only been fed human food, had to have all but one of his teeth pulled. So out jutted his lower left canine. I would hardly say it was love at first site. The foster mom, Patty, brought “Nashmundo” to Suzi’s home where he was running with a pack of rescues; about six or twelve... hard to say when the pack gets on the move. Nashy would run over to Patty and I on occasion, check in and be off and running again. I was smitten and Nashville rode home with me, hollering all the way. It wasn’t until later that I found out that he was fond of ladies. In fact, a woman had been the one who left him abandoned for dead, alone in a trailer park, after she moved on.

      Nash settled in and Walky-walks, Treaty-treats and Nippy-naps came to be a way of life in our home. A few months after the rescue, my friend Gene noticed a growth on his lip. I took him to the vet and, sure enough, it was cancer. The vet gave me the option of surgery (which was going to cost the amount of the trip to Italy for which I had been saving) or to just let it go and keep him comfortable. The vet did indicate that Nash had a bad heart and he was not guaranteeing anything as the anesthetic may be harmful to him. I had made a commitment to take care of him and to that promise I stuck. As I wrote the check to the vet, instead of the front gate of the Venetian Gondolier, I knew I was doing the right thing. After the surgery, I found out that they got all of the cancer with good margins. The eternal city of Roma, will “always” be there, Nash would not.

      Nash “talked” to everyone. I called it barking, kind people called it “talking”. I would have friends over and he would bark for the entire visit. His tail wagging the whole time, he would make his presence known. He could be on their lap being petted and he would continue barking. When I met Paul, I knew it was going to be a test. Yet, I was smitten with both and wondered how I could make the two meld. Paul came over and after much warning about Nash’s incessant barking, I couldn’t believe my eyes... Nash went to him, barked a few times and sat down next to him on the floor. Licking, being playful... and quiet!!!! I then knew that Paul was the one. He had passed through the test and I hadn’t even been assigning one. Time wore on and as my father said, “looks like you lost your dog”. Paul and Nash became inseparable.

      I was the walk, food and tell-him-off-when-he-gets-home daddy; Paul became the snuggler, fun, treat daddy. And it worked. Over the years, Nash became a part of our family but he always seemed a bit lonely. So, we adopted a puppy we thought to be an invalid. Crippled in the back legs, slow, clumsy and scarred from being thrown from a car, Scarborough came into our lives. We decided that we would change his name as we would not name a dog with three legs, “Peggy”. We thought with his handicap, he would be slow and easy-going like Nash...So, Mr. Wilson moved in with us and life was good. Mr. Wilson challenged us. We came to find out that as he was walked and exercised, his back legs healed and we had a full-blown puppy. He kept Nash spry.

      On December 12, 2011, the Christmas tree up, a fire in the fireplace and everyone quietly going about the house, Nash started panting. I thought he was hot so I took off his sweater and tried to cool him down with a fan and water. I picked him up and carried him to the couch, where Paul (who is also a nurse) informed me to say “good bye” as his breathing was decreasing. We both looked at one another with a decision to make: Drive in a chaotic panic and have him go on a cold metal table, or let him go at home in peace.  I had not had a pet die so young and vibrant before. But I held him, Mr.Wilson snuggled in and Paul held his face and we said good-bye to our best friend; at 9:21 p.m., with the lights on the tree gently glowing through my tears and in the surreal distance a fire crackling, Nashville Lowrie-Riedel gently and quietly went to his angels on the Rainbow Bridge. Within those 15 minutes that seemed like an eternity of heart failure, our lives had been altered forever.

      Another auspicious event happened on December 12, 2011. An elderly female pug, whose owner died and on the day of the funeral, her brother died leaving her alone in the world, came into San Diego Pug Rescue. With us reeling from our loss, Mr. Wilson all alone, we decided to adopt Heidi. Her foster parents cared for her until the vet checks were done and we brought her home in late January. We knew it was a little too soon, but as a tribute to Nashville, we knew he would have wanted his legacy of caring for older pugs to go on. Our “sign” from Nash, was that Mama had to have many of her teeth pulled as well. So, into our lives has waltzed another love bug whom we affectionately call “Mama”. If I can pass on anything to a reader of this article, I would encourage you to open your hearts and minds to adopting an older pug. They know where they are in their lives; down and out. They also know when they are rescued. Sure they’ll test you; aren’t the truest of loves and friendships put through fires? It is from these fires that the strongest of loves are formed, forging a path for all of us to reach our “Rainbow Bridge”.

- Shawn Lowrie