A Pug’s Summer Idyll

 

I wouldn’t want anyone thinking I’m a sentimental sissy because I remember certain days or events with great satisfaction, but since Lizzie and I have so much alone time in the apartment we sometimes share our favorite memories…not maudlin girly stuff though.  In that same vein I’ve decided to share one with you, dear reader.

 Summer, as you know, is the time we spend on Cape Cod with our grandparents. There probably is no finer place on earth, at least for a pug, than this spit of land. The smells, the sights, the air, the water, and of course the food, all come together to create a kind of paradise.

 So when Grandpa, who is a bit of a soft touch when it comes to loving his grandpugs, needs to run errands, all we have to do is run down the stairs ahead of him and stand alert at the door to the garage. I know it doesn’t sound terribly exciting for most of you unimaginative sorts, but for Lizzie and me, it is the Holy Grail of outings! With only a look at our perky little donut tails and eager eyes, he says, “Would you guys like to come?” Like stink on road kill, we shoot out the door with him and jump into the jeep. We perch up front in the passenger seat, with the window down and the sunroof open, and wait for the fun to begin. First we head to the post office where Grandpa puts us up on the scales and then the postal ladies give us cookies. We wag and smile and look from face to face, hoping for another treat. Next we head to the bank, where we wait in the drive thru line. Knowing that the nice teller there always has cookies for us, we fling ourselves into Grandpa’s lap in the middle of his banking transaction and wait for the little drawer to slide out, bearing its treasures. Then, if there is an upcoming party or cookout, we go to the liquor store where Grandpa puts us in a cart and pushes us through the store. That always garners comments and cookies!

 What wonderful days those were and we comfort each other with the thought that they soon will be here  again.

Respectfully submitted,

Mason

Weighing in...what we suffer for a cookie!

Weighing in...what we suffer for a cookie!

 

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