Monday, February 6, 2017

Sleepy Pudgy!!

This is Pudgy when he was about eight months old.

Saturday, February 4, 2017

Cute as ever...

Around two years old here.  

Thursday, February 2, 2017

"Pudgy, Friend, Hero, Beagleranian"

-By Jacquelyn Garofano

Ten years ago, I was fortunate enough to find a treasure in the form of a five-month old Beagleranian at an animal shelter.  Pudgy has since become my hero in everyday life, as he has rescued me time and again from psychological trauma.  Over all these years, he has taken care of me to a much greater extent than I ever imagined a dog could.  From the start, he made it his mission in life to help me.  In 2007, I felt like the light inside of me was dying. I reached out for something to drag me back into the world, and I found Pudgy. Pudgy was the bright spark that re-ignited my world. He was full of energy and challenged me to the very core. As I faced the challenge of teaching him new things every day and he became a better and better dog, I felt great pride in him. What's more, he inspired love and emotion in me for the first time in many years. We forged an emotional bond that was unbreakable.
@Jacqui Garofano

I have struggled with severe depression and anxiety issues my entire life, and from the start, Pudgy stepped up to the challenge of helping me without even being asked.  This is his own, very special, inborn gift.  I first noticed it when Pudgy was about a year old.  Since the first time he came to my rescue, Pudgy has never failed me.  It astounded me to learn that some dogs require 6-12 months of training to do what came naturally to Pudgy.  This seems to be Pudgy's unique ability: to assist people with psychological difficulties by recognizing when they are having an issue and providing a calm, stable energy until they achieve a more grounded state of mind.  It is an amazing thing to witness: a change comes over him, his eyes grow very wide, and he rushes to my side to administer whatever therapy he sees fit based on what I am experiencing.  I am not sure if he detects this based on my movements, my breathing pattern, or just hormonal/chemical changes that he detects with his ultra-sensitive Beagle nose.  He can wake from a sound sleep without prompting to help me, so I tend to believe that it is his nose that sends him the alert.  It is like a change comes over him, and he immediately goes into rescue-mom-from-herself mode. Once he knows that I am fine, he goes back to his normal Pudgy activities - sniffing, playing, and dreaming about chasing rabbits.   

When Pudgy was around six years old, I learned that my mother had become ill. Two years passed by, and after a long struggle with the illness, she passed away. The loss of my mother hit me very hard. I had so much negativity inside me. I felt angry and lost, and more alone in the world than ever before, except of course for Pudgy, my best friend who had been by my side for so many years.  After this trauma that occurred alongside with some other serious issues in my life, I developed PTSD.  It was incredibly difficult to deal with, but Pudgy stepped up to the challenge of helping me to an even greater extent, as I now trained my once companion to go out with me in public and stay by my side 24 hours a day.  It was an easy transition.  Pudgy has always been in tune with my emotions and knows how to calm me during even the darkest of moments.

Six months ago, I noticed that Pudgy started to cough once or twice a day.  I noticed that his breathing was a bit faster at night than what seemed normal.  We went to see a specialist, and I found out that my best friend Pudgy had developed a degenerative heart valve problem.  His mitral and tricuspid valves "leak" and it causes fluid to back up into his lungs.  He was prescribed four medications which he takes daily at three separate intervals.  The diagnosis was devastating.  Pudgy's cardiologist informed me that there was no cure for this progressive disease of the heart.  Having had experience with my own human family's health problems though, I know that you must do your own research when it comes to medical matters.  So I did.  I scoured the Internet and discovered that while mitral valve surgery is quite common for humans to have, it is not widely available for dogs with the same problem.  Then I found an article about a man who flew in a special surgeon from Japan a few years ago to perform heart surgery on his dog.  I was overjoyed because I knew it was going to be possible to save Pudgy's life.  Pudgy means the world to me and no measure is too drastic to save my best friend.  As the surgery is beyond my means, I began a fundraising campaign here, trading my privacy about my issues for a chance to save my best friend's life.  I am determined to save my best friend's life.  Pudgy is my treasure, and I feel lucky that I am the human who gets to keep him.

If you would like to be part of the story, please visit

Wednesday, February 1, 2017

I am raising $38k to save Pudgy's life

If we lived in a Socialist nation, this would not be an issue.  It sickens me when I read the news and see celebrities who drop that much money on one earring when it could save a life.  This is a screwed up world when you look at life in those terms.  Anyway, enough complaining, let's give some money to this beautiful dog who never complains and puts up with his crazy owner (me)! Also, after you look at this picture, please go here-->

This dog's mom is on a mission to save his life!

Ok, that dog mom is me.  And Pudgy is my service dog.  He's also my heart and soul.  And he needs a major surgery to fix his heart.  Here is our full story:  Pudgy, My Heart! Video

Sunday, September 7, 2008

Cellophane Intruder

I was by the window when I noticed it. It loomed large in the distance, flapping slightly in the draft from the air conditioning vent. I was not sure exactly what it was, but it had invaded my home. It was my own fault really. It must have snuck in while my back was turned; foolish me – I had been distracted by something outside, while the real threat was entering my home. I jumped down from my window perch to get a closer look. I still could not determine what it was, so I made my way closer toward where it sat, on the ledge that divided the kitchen and the living room. As I grew closer, I could see that it was of an unsual shape, and as the breeze from the vent hit it again, it seemed to change form. “A shape-shifter!” I thought. I had heard about such phenomena in science fiction movies, but I did not know that they actually existed.
I moved a little closer, slowly, and crouched down. I began to give it a warning. “Grrrrrr…. get out of my house.” I said in my most menacing voice. But despite my intimidating glare, the thing did not move. It just sat there, refusing to vacate my home. “Leave the premises immediately!” I shouted. But nothing happened. And then I heard giggling coming from the other room; it was my parents. What was wrong with them? An intruder had entered our home, and all my parents could do was to laugh. Had they gone insane with fear? I had always known this would happen. Now it was up to me to take care of us. I would have to resort to my primal roots; prey and hunt, eat uncooked meat, and then drag home the leftovers for them. As I delved further into my daydream of my future life, I heard shuffling behind me. It was Dad. He didn’t exactly look like he had lost his mind, but he was smiling. “Good, reinforcements,” I thought. I let out another deep growl. “We’ve got you now, intruder!” I shouted.
Then Dad did a strange thing. He grabbed the stranger, folded it up, and put it in the closet. Maybe he has gone mad. As long as he can still remember how to feed me though, it will all be alright.

Written by: Pudgy
Copyright 2008 The Pudgy Chronicles