Gizmo

On October 9, 2006, I held Gizmo as he peacefully went to sleep after a four-month battle with mast cell cancer in his lymph nodes. He was three years old. He is greatly loved and terribly missed.

When Alan proposed to me in October 2003, he handed me a tiny pug with a blue tag on his collar that read "Gizmo."
"Gizmo, this is your momma," Alan said.
Moe has been my shadow ever since.

Hazel, my in-laws' boxer, thought Moe was a squeaky toy, so we had to keep him corraled.

He was a little offended.

But not too offended to gorge himself! He loves food, a point he proved with an evil little growl when Kritter tried to sniff him while he was eating.

What a tough looking little puggie! He has to look like that to keep other dogs from approaching him - 'cause he is not a fan of unapproved approach.

Gizmo does loves his big adopted brother though.

Gizmo always follows Kritter's lead.

And Kritter loves it. He's a boy, but he's a sweet momma pug.

They team up to steal my pillow.

Gizmo is a puppy eyes expert.

Moe keeps me company wherever I go. Well, he waits outside the shower, but other than that he's right beside me.

He's a little weirdo, but he's my little Moe!

And my little Moe is the best little Moe he can be.

He's a really good cuddler.

When he wants to sleep, he sleeps. But when we want to sleep - he barks! But he's just looking out for us.

When we packed to evacuate for Rita, Moe helped by packing himself.

And he was a good boy through the whole 18 hour trip to Dallas.

He's always a good boy.