A Pug’s Wish List, or What Pugs Really Want for Christmas

Because you humans attach such significance to holidays, it seemed appropriate to address the age-old question of what to get the pug. First of all, I need to dispel the notion that we actually care about receiving a present as we watch you tear madly into your excessive haul. We do, however, enjoy the excitement it engenders, and we really love walking around in the aftermath of strewn papers and ribbons. That having been said, I feel obligated to share with you what we, of the pug breed, most love at this time of the year.

• Cuddling on the sofa, in front of a roaring fire, with one or both of our parents. If a nap ensues, then even better. If you’ve no fireplace, no worries…we are still happy for your undivided time and body.
• If you’re baking Christmas treats, let us stand with you in the kitchen and be your taste-tester. If a few crumbs fall our way, then we are also happy.
• Long, leisurely walks in newly fallen snow (or not), knowing that a nice dog cookie is our reward at home.
• A fresh marrowbone or oversized biscuit is always a welcome gift.

What we really don’t like at all, but you love giving as gifts:

• Hand knit sweaters, fleece jackets, hoodies, booties, and any item of apparel you find adorable on us.
• Christmas costumes of any sort, including reindeer antlers, Santa beard, hat, and coat, elf outfits, jingling bells, Christmas tree lights, and baby Jesus swaddling. We hate all of this and endure the indignity of wearing it because it pleases you enormously and you want that Christmas card photo so desperately.
• A new baby puppy. Enough said.
• Wrapped presents because you think it is great fun watching us struggle with unwrapping  them.

We pugs were put on earth just for your pleasure and we are the consummate people pleasing dogs, and so, if you would like to please us this holiday, consider giving us what we really want.

Happy holidays from a wise old pug, and respectfully submitted,

Mason

Here we are, all suited up and ready to brave the cold for our hike.

We look like extras from a sad circus in our colorful sweaters. I understand we needed some outer garment due to the extreme cold, but why do we have to look so garish?

It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

What a glorious weekend for this remarkable old curmudgeon of a pug. Traveling with Mom to the Cape on Friday was only the beginning of our journey. We surprised Grandpa at his art show opening and then celebrated his birthday on Saturday. Even though the temperature was quite cold, we enjoyed a hike through the woods at Eagle Pond, my favorite destination. The smells were particularly pungent and I wandered unfettered off the trails, exploring each scent that took my fancy.

Sunday was the icing on the proverbial cake, though. It was the annual Christmas party at our Cape Cod vet’s hospital. When the four of us trotted into the waiting room, the audible ooh’s and aah’s gladdened my attention-seeking heart. People were visibly moved by the spectacle we created and naturally, I garnered the lion’s share of this acclaim.

I quickly assessed the situation, ascertained that the popcorn machine was running smoothly, dog biscuits were plentiful, and human food covered a huge buffet style table. All was well. I knew we’d have to earn our rewards, however, because Santa was sitting in front of the fireplace waiting to hold us for the taking of pictures. Ah, what price fame! We were four highly compliant canines and the results are nothing short of spectacular.

Mom happily threw popcorn and dog treats into our snapping maws while people came to admire our catching skills and general cuteness. Grandma, however, always the voice of reason, started to “harsh my mellow” by suggesting that perhaps we’d had enough since she would have to deal with  the consequences later in the evening. I flashed my glistening eyes in Mom’s direction, beseeching her with a silent eloquence, that she should ignore Grandma and just keep feeding us. Mom unfortunately decided it was time to go since she had to catch a train in Providence for New York.

That night, sleeping in Grandpa’s office, I was awakened several times by stomach rumblings and distress. Even the trusty but loathsome diaper could not contain what my bowels were producing. When Grandpa came to fetch us this morning, my diaper was in the corner and evidence of my discomfort left a vivid trail around his office. I felt bad but unfortunately there was no help for it.

They say it is the season for giving and receiving. I received and I gave.

Respectfully submitted,

Mason

Have you ever seen more fetching beasts? I think the photo would be significantly improved, however, if Grandma would crop out the three others.