A Loaf of Bread, A Lot of Time, and Moi

The old saying, “no fool like an old fool” is certainly applicable to yours truly, and were I able to undo the events of the past 48 hours I would. I am, if nothing else, an extreme gourmand (not to be confused in any way with gourmet) and I have lived a long life in a daily quest for errant pieces of food, ort, and garbage. It is my “raison d’etre,” my passion, and my undoing.

Grandma arrived Friday afternoon bearing treats and toys, which I enjoyed to no end. We then decided since the weather was so fine, to walk to Epsteins for an outdoor adult beverage. Mom fed me a fair amount of French fries, which I inhaled, while Lizzie sat on Grandma’s lap just waiting to be petted by passersby. That outing and indulgence set the stage for what unfolded Saturday night.

With my bowels already quite roiled by the ingestion of foods not normally a part of my daily diet, I should have realized how important it was for them to rest. And after the “accidents” of Saturday morning and afternoon, I knew the wise choice would have been to relax and not pursue my food quest, but of course I could not obey that instinct.

Mom and Grandma left the apartment at 7 pm since they had theater tickets, which left Lizzard and me to our own devices for an entire evening. I remembered seeing Grandma carry into the apartment a large bag from Eataly, a remarkable food store on lower 5th Avenue. I was positive there would be something of interest within that bag but unfortunately Grandma had stowed it in the guest room, up on the sofa, out of my reach. Since I have little to no use of my hindquarters, I had to involve the village idiot in my plan. I will say this for Lizzard, being of a lower mental order she is always willing to forgive and forget previous wrongdoings. In a Machiavellian manner, I explained how important it was for me to acquire said bag because I felt certain Grandma had left a treat in it for us which she had forgotten to hand out earlier. Spry as a roly-poly little hedgehog, Lizzard sprung up onto the couch, snagged the bag, and hopped down. Pushing her aside roughly I inspected its contents, discovering a handsome 9-grain loaf of bread. This was the perfect choice so I searched no further. I must admit it was a bit too hearty for my palette, but I was a pug on a mission. It took five hours of serious chewing and swallowing but I managed to finish all but a small chunk of it. Finally I knew what it felt like to be full…so full I couldn’t drag my body across the room when I heard the key in the door after midnight.

Mom and Grandma inspected the living room quickly, ascertaining there was no evidence of accidents, while chatting about their wonderful evening. It was then that Mom noticed my bloated and distended belly. At that same moment Grandma discovered a little piece of bread on the rug and asked what it was. The rest is a bit of a blur…the discovery of the bag on the floor in the guest room, the small, uneaten hunk of bread, my hardened belly and inability to navigate the room. I was tossed into my carrying bag and off we rushed into the night.

Trying to hail a cab at 1 am in Manhattan is nearly impossible but my wild and crazy mom was successful. By the time we were heading uptown I began to pant, always a signal that something bad is happening in my lower intestinal area. Gas redolent of released yeast and stool filled the cab and Mom alternated between laughter and tears while Grandma tried to keep her calm until we reached the hospital.

An x-ray revealed an abdomen four times its normal size and I spent the night and next morning receiving copious amounts of fluids in order to move its contents along. It was not pleasant since the amount of diarrhea I produced required the shaving of my rear end, giving me a definite baboon butt.

The care and attention I received at the Fifth Avenue Veterinary Specialists Hospital, however, was phenomenal, but I was definitely jonesing for a treat by the time the acute phase was over. Sunday afternoon I spent releasing foul and noxious gas into the apartment but today I am right as rain, ready to eat my weight in kibbles.

And there you have it, dear readers, my weekend with Grandma. Mom said this little escapade of mine was more costly than a stay at a four star hotel and spa, and without any of the perks.  And no, I did not share with Lizzie.

Respectfully submitted,


P.S. Dad was out of town so he missed all of the excitement.

Here we are this morning, Lizzie sleeping in Dad's golf bag and yours truly very comfortable on the floor.


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17 responses to “A Loaf of Bread, A Lot of Time, and Moi

  1. Pug Chick

    Oh my dear Mason I am afraid to say that Lizzard may have been the smarter pug this time as she did not partake of the bloatting bread. But I guess that may have been because you hogged it all up for yourself. Bless your heart I hope a lesson was learned here. Glad that you are once again in fine form. Your experience does not sound like much fun. Tell mom I can relate to the expense of your transgressions. Take care my friend.

    • Pug Chick,
      Thank you so much for your letter. While I would like to think a lesson was learned, I fear the reality is different. I know, beyond all rational thinking, that were I presented again with such a treat I would stuff myself like a tick.
      Just keeping it real.
      Best regards,

  2. Ah Mason,
    Isn’t it great, all the treats one can get, when grandparents come to visit? 🙂 I can only imagine how much more I might be able to attain if only I too had a “village idiot” whose limber aid I might enlist. I do have to chuckle at this particular story though. Mother always remarks that pug bodies are remarkable in that they can take in perfectly good oxygenated air and efficiently turn it into the most noxious fumes imaginable, capable of burning an unsuspecting human’s eyes. I once got a hold of some bread dough that had been left unattended to rise. Though I did not eat enough to be in as much distress as your own distended belly may have caused, I am afraid that I am familiar, as is Mother, with the peculiar ‘odor’ that yeast seems to lend to our breed’s distinctive essence. To Mother’s further dismay, she was trapped in our car with me while I was “emitting” these gases. And to top it off, she got pulled over. While she was grateful for the excuse to roll down the window, the poor innocent police officer was horrified. Especially when he leaned in to the car to pet me and I took advantage of his sensory proximity to ‘freshen’ the air before all my excellent emissions drafted out that open window. Needless to say, Mother did not escape without a ticket for which she blames me.

    Your friend,

    • Wilbur,
      How grand hearing from you again. Your story does compete with mine and I should have included the scene of my hospital departure on Sunday, when Grandma fetched me in her little sports car. The fumes were so vile and offensive that she put the top down while driving in Manhattan traffic. She and Mom were unable to handle what I was producing. Ah well, just another chapter in my life. Sorry about your Mom’s ticket though. Sounds as if your output was as potent as mine.
      Your friend,

  3. sue

    Mason poor baby I am sure you enjoyed the bread but were sorry afterwards your poor mom she must have been scared I know I would be glad everything turned out ok and you are feeling better did you learn a lesson in this I hope so Sue and the pug gang

    • Ah Sue,
      Alas, no lesson learned…just ready to keep searching for treats and treasures. Thanks for writing and caring. I appreciate it.

  4. Pugeslworth

    Oh Mason you are a smart one! Back in the day when I had an older and stupider sister who was a golden retriever I used to use her to get all kinds of loot. My mom and dad had gone on a long trip to another continent far far away and can back with all sorts of chocolatey delicious treats. The night they arrived home they went out to eat and left their luggage on the floor. They thought that zipping it up would be enough to keep us away but they were sorely mistaken. I got that retriever to open the bags and boy did I go to town! I ate the wrapping and all! They came home to a ducle de leche, merenge, chocolate mess. I wasn’t very clever in hiding my mess as I had dulce de leche stuck to my chest…it was heaven…until mom tried to force me to throw up. But I didn’t budge I kept it all in! Best to you Mason keep it truckin.


    • Dear Pugsley-Toad,
      Props to you! Yes, idiot siblings can provide a great assist but yours sounds outstanding! Chocoate is what we all crave but I fear I might not have survived that indulgence. You are a brave and tenacious pug, Pugsley.
      Thanks for writing!

  5. All of our pug friends enjoyed this immensely. Pug safety first!

  6. Dear Mason, This here is your good pal Howie P. I jest happened to be googling the word “flatulence” and your post appeared as the top search selection this morning. Congratchy-lations on that achievement. The Dallas Fort Woof pug rescue peeps was all exclaiming over yer blog yest-turd-day. I think it’s official you are now famuss. Get well soon!
    your biggest Fan,

    • Howie P…
      While I realize, of course, that “flatulence” didn’t yield my blog, I certainly do appreciate your clever praise. You are truly a kindred spirit, H.P., and I regret the miles separating us. Your letters always make me laugh and I feel certain that together we might inflict some considerable damage.
      Thanks always for writing.
      Best regards,

  7. Oh Mason, You are a pug after my own heart. I heartily agree with your decision to stuff an entire loaf of bread into your little pug belly and I *know* I would have done the same. Why just today, I ate a whole stack of pancakes when Daddy wasn’t paying attention.

    • Kudos to you! Would that I still had such speed. I am guessing you are still a youngish pug because in my youth I too had such skills. Thanks for sharing.

  8. How I have missed, missed, missed Mason’s musings and always so eloquently written by Susan!! Oddly, I’ve thought about my favorite internet pug acquaintances many times, but we recently relocated from Boston to a suburb in Georgia; and the past few months have been hectically stressful 🙂

    Happy to hear you recovered well from your glutenous retreat, Mason. And a note to Susan, if you think for a moment that after that cab ride, you’ll ever get another one in that area again – think again. You’re a marked woman now 🙂 lol!!

    Big hugs!!!

    • Lisa,
      Thank you for writing. It pleases me that you enjoy my little efforts. As for the cab situation, New York is city of cabs and there will always be someone willing to transport a pug in need…My mom is a lioness when it comes to my welfare so I don’t worry.
      Thanks again for writing and good luck in Georgia.

  9. Wubby's Mama

    What a great story! I had to change my email address. Some mean soul hacked it and I have been unable to get it back. I have missed your stories and adventures, but now I have put in the new information and hopeto continue to get updates on your live. I missed you.

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