Monthly Archives: February 2009

For a Pug, Enough is Never Enough, or Take it to The Limit One More Time

How many of you pug owners/managers/companions have made a startling discovery about your pug, regarding his/her seemingly infinite capacity for the consumption of food? We are, by our very nature, voracious and compulsive eaters of anything that resembles food or food byproducts. I know that many of you, and you know to whom I speak, would like to believe that your  adorable little puggly wuggly will know when to apply the proverbial food brakes to an eating frenzy. I am here to dispel that notion forever! FACT: We will eat until we explode. This is true, dear reader.

 Which brings me to the difficult piece of this warning, difficult because it goes against all that I hold near and dear to myself. I feel as if I am betraying my breed by issuing this warning, but “Cutums Sweetums” needs Mom or Dad (or both) to be the voice of reason when it comes to meting out food and treats. And be prepared because your little bugged-eyed angel will fix you with the most intense, pleading, laser-like stare, after devouring an entire bag of baby carrots.  You will be tempted to say to yourself “just one more won’t hurt.” That one more can be the straw that breaks the pug’s back!

 We are so endearing, so convincing, and so relentless in our pursuit of even a crumb of food, that you parents must remain strong in the face of our puggy wiles. I  personally have witnessed a trained medical professional fold like a two-dollar suitcase, just from feeding me a liver treat after a particularly invasive medical procedure. This veterinarian then got down on the floor and tossed one treat after another down my gaping maw, saying how much fun it was watching me catch treats midair.(I have to give Grandma credit for teaching me this highly effective trick.)

 So yes, we are adorable and we know how much you love us…just don’t love us to death. You must offer us tough love, but understand we will not thank you.

 

Respectfully submitted,

Mason

 

Not a particularly interesting shot, but you can see I am eating from the proper feeding station.

Not a particularly interesting shot, but you can see I am eating from a proper feeding station.

Here is Lizzard tucking into her chow. Note too her feeding station is correctly elevated.

Here is Lizzard tucking into her chow. Note too her feeding station is correctly elevated.

 


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A Little Privacy for A Pug, If You Please

 

I’ve given this particular entry a good deal of thought because I am a pug of considerable sensitivity, and one who is mindful of his readers’ sensitivities. Let me be perfectly clear at the onset that my only intention is to heighten your awareness of something you probably have never considered, and not to chastise you in any way, dear reader.

Because I am a pug, it has come to my attention over the years that one of the most basic of bodily functions is universally treated by dog owners in a fairly cavalier and disrespectful manner. I realize that having to relieve oneself on the street, gutter, lawn, beach, or any other such public venue precludes privacy or modesty. I am, however, eager to point out that, even with these constraints, a pug still appreciates its owner or walker averting his gaze during the process.

I am not a particularly fastidious or private creature, but I do have standards. I cannot help but recoil in horror when I see a poor, tricked-out, little poodle straining at the curb, with its owner barking  “COME ON, MUFFIN, MAKE FOR MOMMY!” or “BITSY, MAKE A CA-CA LIKE A BIG GIRL!” I’m sorry, dear reader, but this kind of spirited encouragement is degrading and humiliating for all dogs, both large and small.

Perhaps the next time you see your beleaguered little dog, pleading with sad and embarrassed eyes as he relieves himself,  you’ll have the sensitivity to look away. Having said this, you should know that “good job” whispered sotto voce to your pet is acceptable. This always must be followed with a tasty treat.

For those of you whom I may have offended, please forgive me. It was not my intention. On this matter I speak for all pugs, I am sure.

Respectfully submitted,

Mason

 

Here you see me in my most compromising position, vulnerable and exposed

Here you see me in my most compromising position, vulnerable and exposed to the naked eye.

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A Pug With A Plan, or Saving Bones For My Future

Two summers ago my grandma purchased marrowbones from the butcher for me to chew on in her back yard. Now, for those of you unfamiliar with these particular hunks of goodness, they are large round beef bones with marrow filled centers. Because of their size, they are quite safe for pugs to chew on, plus they don’t splinter. Grandma knew they would keep me happily occupied outdoors for some time, which meant I wasn’t inside, clinging to her ankles like a land shark, waiting for just a crumb  to come my way. Being a clever pug, as I’ve mentioned before, I quickly figured out that if I seemingly ate them quickly, another would soon arrive. As all pug owners know, we are not, as a breed, blessed with spectacular canine style teeth. Ours are more the gnarly, widely spaced, stumpy type of chompers. We also tend to lose them easily and early in life. So, it should be clear to most anyone that I couldn’t possibly eat these beastie bones in such short order. No, yours truly would chew for only the time it took to suck out the marrow, then slip into the woods, deposit the bone in the leaves and brush, and return to the back door whining pitifully.

 I like to think of myself as a forward thinking pug. I am always looking ahead, planning for my future (unlike many of my shortsighted brethren). Grandma is sharp but she really never figured out this little trick, and so, by the end of that summer my grandparents’  woods was a veritable minefield of marrowbones!

 What incredible pleasure it was returning this past summer and introducing Lizzie to the exquisite taste of aged and decayed bones. It was our treasure hunt every day! On hot days these treats took on a more piquant  taste, even though it was slightly off-putting having to compete with the ants that crawled over them.

 Planning ahead gives this pug a decided advantage over other dogs. Since I couldn’t possibly discover every hidden bone from the previous year, who knows what treasures this summer will yield?

 Respectfully submitted,

 Mason

 

Alright, I know you were hoping for some photo showing me either chewing or burying a bone. Well, get over it! Just look at how beautiful Lizzard and I looked last summer.

Alright, I know you were hoping for some photo showing me either chewing or burying a bone. Well, get over it! Just look at how beautiful Lizzard and I were last summer.

 

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Will You still Need Me, Will you Still Feed Me When I’m Sixty-Four?

Here’s a piece of cruel irony, dear reader: why is that pugs are so incredibly cute as puppies, and then begin to look excruciatingly unattractive by around age five? Now of course there are exceptions to this rule, such as yours truly, but for the most part it is a dramatic downhill tumble for this breed of dog. How many people happily and enthusiastically choose to adopt pugs that are gray of muzzle, snaggle of tooth, and wide of girth? I believe puppies are cute so that they can secure a place in some besotted human’s home before the transformation begins!

 Now, I am not one to think too much about personal appearance but I did have occasion last week, while out on a walk with Mom, to notice my reflection in a storefront window. I’m afraid I was so taken with my appearance (I was in a beautiful Etro sweater and fitted orange boots…and yes, the weather was terrible) that I quickly put on my brakes, stopped, and then took a long second look. Dang, I looked good and I’m not ashamed to admit my age. I am 8 years old, and by my reckoning, that puts me near the Beatles’ famous sixty-four human years.

 Sometimes it is important to  look at oneself clearly and see both the inner and outer beauty. I think pug owners must do that a lot.

 Respectfully submitted,

 

 

Mason

 

What? You thought I'd show you show hideous image of an old pug? Not bloody likely. I'm a pug on top of his game here.

What? You thought I'd show you some hideous image of an old pug? Not bloody likely. I'm a pug on top of his game here.

 

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