When Good Pugs Go Bad, or Dear Santa, Please Forgive Us

Perhaps it was the building excitement of the holidays, maybe it was having extended time alone in our wee apartment, or maybe it was mercury in retrograde…whatever the reasons, Lizzie and I behaved poorly on Friday and since Christmas is so close I felt some atonement for our sins was in order.

I understand the first step in this process is the acknowledgment or ownership of the wrongful action, and so I am saying now that Lizzie and I were despicable in our behavior. Describing our crimes requires the delicacy for which I am most known, but even so my description may offend you, oh gentle reader. Please understand that I must have my say or else all is lost.

When Mom arrived home from work on Friday she greeted us in her usual effusive and loving manner while we wiggled and squirmed in her warmth. The spell was abruptly broken when Mom began sniffing the air, which, I must admit, was redolent with the sharp scent of pug waste. Mom spied Lizzie’s foul offering, piled atop her favorite Etro accent pillow on the couch. Now, you may wonder, how can I honestly say it was Lizzie’s and not mine? Simply put, it could only be Lizzie’s since my hind legs prevent me from making the leap onto the couch anymore. The tale does end here.

When Mom took us out for our evening walk, the elevator was not running efficiently so she carried me down the stairs and Lizzie walked. Again, the limitations of my hind legs prevent my successfully navigating such steep stairs.  This weakening has also affected control of my, hmmm, entire hindquarters, and so, I tend to leave little reminders of this condition whenever I’m being carried to my toileting. This occurs only when the need for relieving myself is imminent. Mom, however, was ignorant of my droppings, so to speak.

Later that evening, she and Dad left for dinner with friends, and again were forced to use the stairs. Mom, in her Louboutins, squished on each step of her descent, looked down in horror and had to return to the apartment for a cleanup. In their haste to make their reservation they committed the cardinal sin…failure to elevate the garbage can. That’s right, when they returned later that evening, tipsy and tired, they were greeted by one of Lizzie’s most thorough trash tosses.

I do not believe pugs are either good or bad, and I do think that all of us, given the opportunity, will behave in a way that is highly objectionable to humans. We are sorry, Mom and Dad. Please try to remember that for most of the year we are well-behaved and people-pleasing pugs.

Respectfully submitted,


Look at this, Mom and Dad, and think of happier times...


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4 responses to “When Good Pugs Go Bad, or Dear Santa, Please Forgive Us

  1. Roxy, Blue and Bono

    Oh, oh…

    Your pug fans,
    Roxy, Blue and Bono

  2. Andrea

    PS I love your Pugs’ names…”Mason” makes me think of James Mason, the actor with those intense brown eyes. And “Lizzie” sounds so sweet, like a character from Pride and Prejudice.

    Andrea and Grover

  3. Oh I am sure all will be forgiven by Christmas… We too are trash tossers… They just don’t understand what delight we feel when we find the trash left on the floor, forgotten… We know what is about to take place the minute the door closes and they hurry off… Glad to see we are not alone in this enjoyment…

    Merry Christmas Mason & Lizzie,
    Your Faithful Followers…
    The Tootie, Tucker, and Toby

  4. Lexie, Chloe & Coco

    Oh dear Mason, we too have what Mommy calls “our moments”. But the good news is this: Our parents can’t stay mad at us, no matter what we do. As Mommy puts it, we’re “just too cute to stay mad at.”
    So there ya go. Thank you, God, for making us so cute and irresistable…especially at this time of year! 🙂
    ~Lexie, Chloe and Coco

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