Tag Archives: mom

The Brotherhood of the Traveling Pants

Sometimes, dear reader, it is just good to be bad and yours truly is not above flouting the law. Mom has been out of town all week, and not to sound like a broken record, I miss her sorely.  I would like to think that I am a reasonably accommodating pug, without serious obedience issues but sometimes I just have to act up and out.

Last night I was not feeling quite comfortable or myself in the denim drawers, and while Dad and Lizzie were sleeping I managed to extricate my trunk from their confines. Let me assure you that it was quite a feat. The little waistband on the pants was constricting me, and I felt sure that being free of them would offer relief. Dad awakened, discovered my nude state, and proceeded to stuff me back into them. In the process, without any warning whatsoever, a fecal missile shot out. I don’t know who was more surprised…Dad or I. This is really almost too embarrassing to share, folks, but since you’ve all been so vocal about my “darling pants” I thought you should know the consequences of my thoughtless actions.

It goes without saying, I hope, that my reckless abandon was innocent and something that I will not repeat since I know the consequences. Dad, I am truly sorry, and even though it pains me to say this, you and Mom were right about the necessity of wearing these pants. Lizzie…not one word from you, do you understand?

Mom flies home tonight and I hope she understands my sincere contrition.

And so, the saga of pug pants continues.

Respectfully submitted,

Mason

P.S. There  definitely will be no photo today!

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Pug: $2,000, Vet Bills: $10,000, Pug Food: $5,000, Cost of Living in NYC: Astronomical, Mom and Dad’s Love: Priceless.

After a week’s hiatus I am ready to resume my musings for you, dear reader. Re-entry into the hustle and bustle of Manhattan takes some adjustment for yours truly. Getting back my city streets mojo is a far cry from living our pastoral type of existence on Cape Cod, but I’m feeling my old self again and ready to rant, rave, and whine.

Of course the real bonus in this is being wrapped nightly in my Mom’s arms and then knowing that when I awaken in the morning she will still be pressed against me, no matter how many moves I make during the night. That feeling of security is beyond compare…well, maybe a nice juicy marrowbone comes close, but no, not really. I am able to survive our long days alone in the apartment because I know my mom will be home in the evening, ready to reclaim our emotional connection.

This weekend was spectacular because we had long outings to Tompkins Square Park, cuddles on the couch, and a primo bull pizzle, which Lizzie and I consumed on our terrace. Life is good for us, I must confess. The only issue I currently have is the lack of comestibles in our NY home. At Grandma’s there was always a steady, flavorful, and diverse supply of treats. Grandma was mindful of fulfilling our palate’s constant jonesing for an amuse-bouche. I do miss those daily samplings and the heavenly aromas emanating from Granny’s big kitchen.

In the grander scheme, I am quite content and have been reminded this week of the old Simon and Garfunkel song lyrics:

Home where my thought’s escaping,
Home where my music’s playing,
Home where my love lies waiting
Silently for me.

Mom, your little man is happy to be home again.

Respectfully submitted,

Mason

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Just couldn't resist including this shot since it shows me at my finest...working on a lobster claw. Happy times!

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I Hear Your Voice

“I hear your voice-(call)

your voice (call)

your voice (call)

the way it used to do

I feel my heart (fall)

my heart (fall)

I try to keep you off my mind

but every time I do, I hear your voice”    Lionel Richie

I am not a huge fan of pop music, dear reader, but today Lionel says it best.

This morning, while Grandma and Grandpa were having breakfast, my mom phoned (which she does on a daily basis), and Grandma decided to put her call on speakerphone so that I could hear her easily. I cannot even begin to describe my response. It was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. In the past, Grandma has put the phone up to my ear for these chats with Mom, but they always frighten and disturb me. This, however, brought my mom’s voice right into the room, as if she were there. I must admit that I looked around for her but without any success. I really don’t understand how her voice can be so immediate and clear, and yet she not be there physically. All I know is that hearing her unleashed a torrent of emotion and longing. I was fine until that call.

Now I cannot stop thinking about her. Grandma reassures me that she and Dad are arriving on Friday for the weekend and that Lizzie and I will be returning to Manhattan with them for the winter. That news also triggered another emotional outpouring. While I am excited and thrilled to be with my parents, the thought of leaving Grandma and Grandpa is tearing my little pug heart apart.

I do know, however, that Lizzie and I have a great capacity for adjustment to change. We are highly adaptable creatures; otherwise we could not live these two separate lives so well.

Trite but true axiom: when one door closes, another always opens. This is my last week on the Cape and I plan to suck all the marrow from the remaining time before my NYC apartment door opens.

Respectfully submitted,

Mason

A bittersweet time for us.

A bittersweet time for us.

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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.

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

Look at Mom holding Lizzie.

Look at Mom holding Lizzie.

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

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

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

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

These little girls had no intention of every leaving us.

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.

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

Lizzie is beginning to work on her clam

She's putting a little more muscle into it.

She's putting a little more muscle into it.

Her clam shells are growing...

Her clam shells are growing...

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

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

Note that she never loses her form.

Note that she never loses her form.

Finally, yours truly has a go at it.

Finally, yours truly has a go at it.

This is how a real manpug does it.

This is how a real manpug does it.

Lizzie's final lick...

Lizzie's final lick...

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

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

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

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

Enjoy!

Respectfully submitted,

Mason

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What A Pug Wants, What A Pug Needs

I am transported, I am comforted, I am in a state of such bliss that words don’t come easily. To see my mom open the back door and come inside carrying luggage was almost more than this little pug heart could bear. I’ve said it before but it bears repeating…you don’t know what or whom you’re missing until you are faced with that thing or person, and then you realize that there has been a hole in your heart that is suddenly filled.

My mom really doesn’t have to say much to me because we communicate on our own special wavelength…a secret unspoken language that we’ve shared since the day we met. We understand that our love goes beyond physical boundaries and that together, we are complete.

Her arms wrapped around my body reassure me that all is well with the world and there is no place in which I would rather be. You wonder how one little pug can feel this and know it? Well then, just look into your pug’s face closely and you will discover this truth. It is there for you to see if you have any doubts.

Of course Lizzard wriggled and squirmed for Mom, and Mom gave her a hug and kiss, but I have enough self-confidence to let her have that little moment. The thing is that Lizzie has no deep loyalty. She pretty much will waddle off with anyone who pets and loves her. When Grandpa asked who wanted a nap upstairs, off trotted that fickle little female. But not yours truly…I settled in with Mom on the downstairs sofa, and even though she and Grandma were chatting, I was being petted, stroked, and held.

I must apologize for the schmaltzy, sentimental pap that I’ve written today but sometimes even my emotions just flow like a river heading to the ocean.

Respectfully submitted,

Mason

Look at how we fit...

Look at how we fit...

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The Mother and Child Reunion, or I Never Can Say Goodbye

Sometimes, dear reader, rock and roll says it best, but perhaps I am just wallowing in my memories of a perfect, long, weekend reunion with my mom and dad. They arrived late Wednesday night and until they left, late Sunday afternoon, Lizzie and I were cosseted and cuddled by them.

It’s funny how you can manage the pain of separation from loved ones until you actually see them again, and then you suddenly realize there has been an opening in your heart that now is filled. This realization became vividly apparent once I was in my mom’s arms again.

We spent time walking on the beach, playing badminton, having cookouts, and riding in the boat.  Our nights were spent sharing our parents’ bed, where I was once again able to wrap myself around my mom’s head on top of her pillow. Lizzard prefers a deep burrow, under the covers, with mornings spent wrapped in Dad’s arms. Ah, what incredible bliss for us. I cannot speak for Lizzie, but to me no time could have been sweeter.

When their car left late Sunday, I was so exhausted that I could barely grieve. I craved a long nap and, for once, did not even think about dinner. I know Grandma and Grandpa miss my parents and are already looking forward to their August visit.

Like the Cape weather, my moods change rapidly. They can be rainy one minute and the sunny the next…depending upon our plans. This week begins our reading tour of the libraries, with the first at the Marstons Mills Library on Thursday at 10 AM and the Brewster Ladies Library on Friday at 2 PM. I hope people come to meet us and buy our book.

I know tomorrow will find me filled with renewed hope and vigor, but for today, color me blue.

Respectfully submitted,

Mason

Check out yours truly, sporting a pair of bad chrome "doggles" Mom sent me this weekend. I look incredibly hot, don't I?

Check out yours truly, sporting a pair of bad chrome "doggles" Mom sent me this weekend. I look incredibly hot, don't I?

Lizzie, however, looks like a total idiot. It wasn't bad enough to put her in a pair, but they gave her pink!

Lizzie, however, looks like a total idiot. It wasn't bad enough to put her in a pair, but they gave her pink!

Our "under the boardwalk" moment, only we use beach chairs for shelter

Our "under the boardwalk" moment, only we use beach chairs for shelter

Here I am obeying the jump command for Grandma. Mom loved watching me as I cleared the poorly constructed jump course.

Here I am obeying the jump command for Grandma. Mom loved watching me as I cleared the thrown together/ghetto looking jump course.

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