Some days, dear reader, the cold is so bone crushing and pervasive that every step taken is excruciating. Going out to relieve oneself is a cruel exercise in torture. Today was such a day and I fear my old pug bones were challenged at a new level of intensity. I know I presented a pathetic sight with my roach spine and halting gait. I could see passersby stare and “tsk tsk” with empathy as they viewed my poor ambulation. When I realized the emotional outpouring I was receiving, I upped my performance a notch, hoping Mom would join in the pity party and just pick me up.
But just when I was sure my act was about to garner a cozy reward, I smelled it. That’s right… the smell that no red-blooded, all-American, food obsessed, wildly possessed pug can resist…PIZZA! The holy grail of all human food. I mean pizza is my raison d’etre, it is what compels me to tick off the days until the next pizza delivery, and it is what compels me to accomplish seemingly impossible feats of pug daring. I am ashamed to say that if the pizza delivery boy offered me a home with him, I daresay I would have my bags packed and out the door before Mom could croak, “Mason!”
I digress. It was in the midst of this pitiful charade that I smelled it. My little pug feet took wing and in a trice I had tracked down the source…a Domino’s delivery bicycle parked outside an apartment building. There, clinging to the bike’s cold and brittle metal framework, were pizza molecules, bearing the heady, aromatic, and intoxicating aroma of its last delivery. Dear God, no right-minded pug can resist that smell. Energy returned and vigor was restored; all of my senses became electrified in that one defining moment. Mom looked at me with such disbelief that even I felt some embarrassment. It was as if she had seen Christ cure a leper, or restore a blind man’s sight, or give a cripple the use of his legs again.
I raced home, convinced the Domino’s man would be upstairs waiting for me. How could he not be? This is where the story takes a decided downward turn. There, of course, was no Domino’s delivery, or any other pizza delivery for that matter; however, I did hear Mom say that tonight will probably have to be a pizza night after my transforming encounter.
All’s well that end’s well, dear reader.
8 responses to “Pizza, Chicken Soup for a Pug’s Soul, or I Never Smelled a Pizza I Didn’t Love”
Pizza is a miraculous thing. I hope you get to enjoy one tonight.
All is well, Mason had his pizza tonight and is momentarily full and relaxed……. Lizzie is passed out on her back, bloated belly fully exposed. A perfect end to the weekend.
So happy to hear that your folks were able to order in a pizza for you. Mother ordered in chinese food on Saturday (it is bitterly cold in TX, too, but not as cold as what you must regularly endure up north) however she had so many veggies in it, I was barely able to discern the scent of chicken.
You are a pug after my own heart…Pizza is indeed a cure for what ails you…
I only just happened upon your blog and dare I say it may be love at first read. Not only are you able to manipulate your people with your superior acting talents, but you also recognize that pizza is the most important food ever created. I, however will have to live vicariously through you, as my parents will no longer give up the pizza. They grumble something about 2 episodes of pancreatitis, after indulging me and my pugs, to the tune of $650.00. And imagine, I live in the pizza capitol of the world, New Haven CT. Oh the injustice. Looking forward to learning all about you, you seem very cool.
Your truly, Wilma
We bow to the miraculous powers of pizza! You are so lucky your parents order you pizza, Mason. Our parents NEVER do that!
Can we come live with you? We are well aware that NYC has pizza joints on every corner! And we know you’d just LOVE three new pug ladies sharing your home and food! (we promise to admire you accordingly and to respect your pug manliness at all times!)
~Lexie, Chloe and Coco *who want to move to to NY in a NY minute!*
Thank you Mason at least you understand how much we Pugs love Pizza, that is just our very favorite food, I can smell the pizza over the phone when my human mom calls and orders it.We live in NY and yes there is Pizza on every corner, it’s surprising that Holly and I aren’t 50 pound pugs with all those goodies at every turn…… Enjoy!!
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