Princessa Tessa
Verbena Pugina , a carefree, walking-punch line of a pug, passed away on Nov.
21, 2014. She was 15.
A silly, sweet imp, Tessa personified the old saying about pugs: A lot of dog in a small package. She
probably never spent more than an hour alone throughout her long life as she was
always in the company of a fellow animal or a doting human. She never missed a
meal or a nap, destroyed many a nice rug with her random decisions to pee in
the house and commanded the alpha dog status despite her small stature.
Born sometime in early
1999 in Taylor, Texas, she spent her first days in the company of 10 or so
siblings and cousins from another litter. One sunny Saturday
afternoon, a woman came to her home, spent a couple of hours on the floor
playing with all of the pugs, then picked Tessa up and took her home. She spent
part of that first night sleeping in a purse because the woman just had to attend a group
dinner at a Tex-Mex restaurant in South Austin.
Tessa would spend more
time than she expected in that purse and other hiding spots as the woman, known
as Laura, carried her to work and other places, not quite ready to let her stay
home unsupervised with the other animals – the hapless Dash, another black pug, and the skeptical cats
Smithee and Max. Laura worried Tessa would get out of her box at work,
toddle over to the boss’ office and pee on his beautiful rug, but that
didn’t happen.
Actually, baby Tessa
ventured to a number of places where she wasn’t supposed to be, including a cozy
wedding at the Havana Hotel in San Antonio. It’s probably why she developed this strong
sense of total belonging in the world - she absolutely knew she was loved, would always be cared for and was a welcome figure wherever she went. She trotted into any place as if she
owned it, and people responded to her killer confidence with love and
affection.
She was a natural comedian with an odd half-smirk and could (briefly) dance on her back legs when she was happy to see someone. There were various misadventures over the years with her best pal
Dash, including several escapes from the
yard, long road trips to the grandparents’ hacienda in New Mexico and weekends at their cool house in Galveston, where she loved walking the beach and sticking her
flat face into piles of dead fish for inordinate amounts of time. She sort of liked to
swim-walk in the Blanco River but otherwise never learned to do anything else,
despite numerous failed attempts by several interested parties to make her obey basic
commands. She got away with pretty much everything.
After several moves –
Austin to San Antonio to Houston – her posse settled in Houston, where she lived
out her days on Bomar Street. With the cats gone to a better place, it was Tessa, Dash and Laura for a while. They were joined by Fiona and then Joe. At first,
Fiona was her mortal enemy as they battled for the alpha spot (guess who won), but they became fast friends soon enough.
Joe didn't give her any trouble, except his presence knocked her off the bed,
which she never understood.
She hardly ever had any health problems, unless you count her weight, which she didn't. As a puppy, she was rushed to the emergency vet one Sunday afternoon after being bitten in the face by something, probably a bee. Oh, there also was that time she acted like she was dying but it turns out she was just miffed at Laura for giving Dash too much attention. "Pugs are really smart dogs but they have major personality disorders," the vet told an incredulous Laura. "She's mad at you." (The vet tech called her a little faker as Laura paid the bill. Tessa got over it after some intense girl-time.)
Yes, she was devoted to
Laura, shadowing her around the house and hanging on her every word, even if she
didn’t understand most of it. Though it was a bit uncomfortable, she would let
Laura squeeze her whenever she needed comfort, including that awful night when
she got the news her father had died.
Towards the end, she
lost her sight and hearing and had trouble making her way around the place she
had called home for a decade. But Laura was able to hold her through the worst of
it, trying to give back a little comfort.
Tessa will always be
remembered by Laura as her beloved companion, a funny but formidable
little thing that was a great source of joy for so many years. But it went so fast, this black-pug era.
I wish Tessa had left behind a favorite necklace, toy or poem, but my memories will have to do. RIP Tessa, my flower, my sugarplum fairy, my toad, my pugina. I love and miss you. -Laura
I wish Tessa had left behind a favorite necklace, toy or poem, but my memories will have to do. RIP Tessa, my flower, my sugarplum fairy, my toad, my pugina. I love and miss you. -Laura