Now It’s My Turn

Hi Everybody!

It’s Lizzie. Mason decided to take a little vay-cay from writing today (he said his brain needed a rest and that he wasn’t feeling inspired). I don’t know about that but it really has been a long time since I last wrote a blog, hasn’t it?

For a pug, my life is wonderful, filled with much happiness and love, even though Mason would argue about that. Mason doesn’t seem to understand that I really do wish him well and that my world is topsy-turvy when he is away or unwell. That E-collar business was awful! I know he accused me of being false, but that is untrue. I was so worried when he went to the doctor that when he returned, I tried to cover him with kisses, nuzzling, and love. He would have nothing to do with me as I sniffed his doctor office scent and tried to comfort him. He is always acting the tough guy but I know he really loves the attention. As far as my stealing his marrowbones, that is not true either. I was merely putting them in a safe place until his recovery. Since he couldn’t chew with that huge collar on his neck, I put them in my bed so he wouldn’t feel frustrated every time he saw them.

And when he had to visit the surgeon on Cape Cod, I was really worried and anxious…so much so that on the trip back to NYC, I jumped up on the new rolled up carpet in the car to be near Mom and Dad. I needed comfort and Mason just assumed I was trying take them away from him. Mason says I can make truth out of fiction, if it suits my purposes. I think that is mean and untrue. Mason is always seeing the worst in people and pets.

Oh well, the thing is Mason has recovered and doesn’t need surgery, which makes me very happy. I know he thinks I am an idiot and a silly goose, but so what? I do love our pug contest on Facebook, and I think all of you who have sent in photos are wonderful and beautiful and brave! I think you all are winners, despite Mason’s sour view of life. He means well but he can’t help being a grouch sometimes. I think it is a guy kind of thing. He says, “Lizzie, you need to go to the mailbox and get your reality check. It must be here today!” I have no idea what he means so I just keep a low profile and take a nap.

Thanks for listening…until next time

Pugs and kisses,

Lizzie

This was taken right before Mason's appointment with the surgeon. You can see my worried expression.

Bah Humbug! This Pug Has Had Enough

Well, dear reader, my absence from the blog world indicates nothing more than the arrival of my usual low period preceding the holidays, and this year is worse than usual. Above and beyond my usual despondency is the overwhelming influx of negative energy. And by that I mean, the arrival last Friday of Grandma and Grandpa’s “little bundle of joy” (aka Cecily), or in my view, their “sack of coal.” She arrived wound tighter than a spring, black as pitch, panting wildly and breathing stentoriously…not what I’d call an auspicious beginning. Going out for a walk with her was nearly as challenging as it was with Lizzie on her first night in the city. And then there is the added difficulty of her invisibility at night. I’m afraid that  black pugs just don’t work for yours truly. They seem a breed apart from fawns, the real pugs.

To compound my growing resentment, this female upstart had the unmitigated nerve to attack me in MY HOME during meal preparation! Can you believe that? She was fierce too! You would think that Lizzard would have risen to my defense, but no, in true Lizzard fashion she booked it into the living room, begging not to be involved, and waited out the melee. It is of no concern to me that this Cecily has never been in a city before or that she was uprooted from her kennel and kennel mates just three weeks ago.

I was not sorry to see her leave on Saturday morning. I did, however, require much more than the usual quality time with Mom. She was at work part of the day Saturday but we cuddled a good deal that afternoon.  What she doesn’t understand though, is that I need a lot more from her than ever before. Monday mornings send me into a crashing depression and cause me to behave abysmally. I know she must leave for work and yet knowing that, I still demand more of her. Due to her new job she has even less time than before, which means again, I am receiving the short end of the stick. Further complicating this scenario of misery is my knowing that Grandma and Grandpa now have the new Frenchie (Daphne), in addition to crazy Cecily.

And so, for those of you who have reason to be of good cheer this holiday season, I say “bully for you!” I, for one, only can anticipate a wildly chaotic visit to Grandma and Grandpa’s while a teething Frenchie tears through the house and a black pug who wiggles and snorts, become the center of everyone’s attention.

I finally understand the Grinch.

Respectfully submitted,

Mason

Just look at how comfortable those two females are with MY SPACE!

You can easily guess my mood by my body language. Sign me "down and out in Manhattan."

Alright, here it is…the photo of baby Daphne. Grandma said she wouldn’t post my blog today if I didn’t give her space too. Whatever! (to borrow from lame Lizzie).

A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words, or Just Another Pug Photo Op

I apologize, dear reader, for my lengthy absence from this blog but since Mom and Dad have arrived our days have been filled with so many activities. I think it is true that sometimes a picture is the best means of communication and so I’ve decided to make this entry a photo journey.

Last Thursday was our reading and signing engagement at the Sturgis Library and it was wildly successful. Having Mom and Dad attend was the proverbial icing on the cake for yours truly. The children were polite, loving, respectful, and attentive…all that any pug could want from little people. They loved our book and responded positively to its reading.

Here I am before the reading, receiving the attention I so rightly deserve.

Look at Mom holding Lizzie.

This little boy thought he'd won the lottery by just holding my leash!

Here's my mom again, looking like "La Madonna."

These little girls had no intention of ever leaving us.

This woman sitting next to Mom has come to every reading just to be near yours truly.

That same evening we were rewarded with steamed clams (of course we did not receive the lion’s share, but rather the leavings from the human feast). I think it is worth looking at our “Little Miss Perfect Lady” as she tears tenaciously and wolfishly into each little bivalve. I was, quite frankly, shocked and impressed. I do not have the patience that Lizzard possesses but, as you can see, the reward was worth her effort. Every day that silly pug amazes me.

Lizzie is beginning to work on her clam

She's putting a little more muscle into it.

Her clam shells are growing...

That little pug really knows how to go for the gold!

Note that she never loses her form.

Finally, yours truly has a go at it.

This is how a real manpug does it.

Lizzie's final lick...

Look at me with my prize! What a pugbeast I am...

And here we are with Dad as he works on a big deal...

Enjoy!

Respectfully submitted,

Mason

Real Men Love Pugs

Before I launch into today’s thoughts, I must first thank all of you loyal readers for casting votes in the Blognet contest. I am happy to report that  “A Pug’s Voice” won First Runner Up for all categories of blogs. Now I am not really sure what happens next but I will keep you posted. I would also like to congratulate my California pug friends, Roxy, Blue, and Bono for placing third in the Valentino contest. I must admit that they look fierce in their photo. Check them out at: http://www.pupstarsonoma.com/

 I want to assure you, dear reader, that Lizzard and I are not going to rest on our proverbial laurels. I will continue to speak freely, intelligently, and frequently about matters of concern to a pug and from a pug’s perspective. This weekend actually proved the above adaptation of the old adage, “Real men don’t eat quiche.” How wrong it is to make assumptions about the appropriateness of certain breeds of dogs for either men or women. Why do people presume that toy poodles are for women and Labradors for men? We pugs have been assigned the female gender for centuries (not that I object to women, mind you), but we are also a man’s breed. I have seen proof of this repeatedly in my lifetime. This weekend was a perfect example. A very large, muscular, no-nonsense, tattooed, man’s man friend of my parents (Matt) visited our apartment on Saturday. To witness this oak of a human dissolve into a pool of emotion over the sight of Lizzard and me was truly revelatory. He scooped me up into muscle-bound arm guns and held me while reading my book, SUMMER PUGS, aloud. I am first and foremost a male pug and I am not interested in gushing, swooning, simpering, baby talk (unless there is a treat involved), but to connect with such a man is a privilege. Lizzard, on the other hand is a silly little girl pug that prefers all that I loathe, and so I won’t digress into her needs or likes.

  It must be  clear that we pugs are not gender specific; we are multi-sexual! If the inner brute in you men needs full expression, then perhaps a pug is a wise choice. We are tough, resilient, companionable, brave, eager, and keen. Don’t ever judge a book by its cover (except for ours) or its size. There you have it, more deep thoughts from a pug named Mason.

 

 Respectfully submitted,

 Mason

 

Here I am hanging with some big guys...standard poodles. You wouldn't call those sissy dogs, now would you?

 

I really would have liked a photo of Matt holding me but I was too embarrassed to ask, so I included this photo since I think it shows my butch stature for you men who are insecure about liking a pug.