Last weekend, dear reader, confirmed all of my long-held beliefs that canines, like all other creatures of the wild, are meant to spend their days in the great outdoors…with the exception of bitter cold winter weather. Pugs would not survive long in such unforgiving conditions. Pugs do well curled up in front of a fireplace or on a soft sofa, safe from such challenging elements…but I digress.
Because Mom and Dad had to attend a wedding party in New Orleans last weekend, Lizzie and I were driven to Ct. to spend that time with our other grandparents. While their knowledge of and experience with dogs is somewhat limited, they tend to lavish us with treats, attention, and great freedom as compensation. I would never want to disappoint them by suggesting such treatment may not be in our best interest, and so Lizzie and I just go with the flow! Marrowbones awaited our arrival and we were free to explore their three acres for the most desirable chewing spot. I found mine under a large shade tree and was content to idle away most of the afternoon in this rewarding pursuit. Lizzie, however, liked following Grandpa around as he gardened, but then again she has never been very imaginative. I was able to take advantage of her absence by hiding her bone behind the tool shed, which afforded me great pleasure. I then remembered my former ploy of burying my bones in the tall grass and then appearing crestfallen before my Cape Cod Grandma and Grandpa. Assuming I had consumed them, my Ct. grandparents handed over more, which I hid for future use…kind of like putting money into a savings account.
I discovered living such a bucolic life gave me a brief return to my former glory, as I nimbly navigated the outdoors stairs without any assistance. I was able to travel up and down at will, with no ill effects. How was such a feat possible, given the severe limitations of my hindquarters? I cannot answer this question but can only assume that the magic of such a weekend gave this venerable old pug a small taste of his former glory. Whatever the reason, my legs took wing, enabling me to forget all of the pills, pain, and palliative care of my daily existence. I know it was difficult for my grandparents dealing with all of the diapering, pilling, and bedtime issues but I want them to know their efforts were greatly appreciated. Thank you Grandma and Grandpa for making this old pug feel like a young pup again.
Respectfully submitted,
Mason
How perfect a picture is this?
Love this because Lizzie is behind the fence and can't get in
Yours truly being held while wistful Lizzie looks on!
Naptime
King of the yard with his treasure
A Pug’s Voice – The Next Generation 