Tag Archives: nap

Variations on A Recurring Theme, or I Get No Respect

I think most of you long time readers of my blog probably have a reasonable idea of who I am. You know I am a pug who will not suffer fools gladly, to paraphrase George Bernard Shaw’s famous, “He was, I believe, not in the least an ill-natured man: very much the opposite, I should say; but he would not suffer fools gladly.” I do think that is a fair assessment of yours truly. I am not one to be challenged, teased, or micromanaged. I can be somewhat standoffish, slightly critical (but usually accurate), and not terribly interested in interacting with my own or other species. And yes, I am a bit of a curmudgeon. So, if you, dear reader, understand my strengths and foibles, then why wouldn’t one incredibly cheeky, inappropriate, and uncontrolled kitten?

This Zoe has been the bane of my existence on Cape Cod. She has taken it into her feline sized brain that I am the object of her attention, that I am a pug with whom to toy, and that she need not observe any of the rules of respectful behavior.

The other night I was enjoying a wonderful post-dinner nap on my grandparents new winter shag area rug in the TV room. I can remember the evening well because I was transported by dreams of such incredible bliss about the object of my affection, when I became aware of a small but annoying paw, persistently patting me. Normally, I either would have moved or swatted it away, but this evening I had no desire to disturb my pleasant reverie. I opened one eye slowly and unobtrusively so that I could discover the source of the annoyance. I watched this creature, Zoe, lying near me, as she slithered closer and closer, using her body in a reptilian way, as only a cat or snake can. I was both repelled and fascinated, curious to see what tactic she would next employ. Her head actually was touching mine and she continued to put forth her paw of mass destruction. She somehow assumed it was okay to keep touching me as she inched closer. At that point something primeval fired in my brain, causing me to lunge at her, using my voice in a most primitive manner, like the pug beast I really am. She looked shocked, disbelieving, and surprisingly, intrigued! She was not chastened or contrite. I still cannot believe her response and it continues to rankle me.

I will never understand cats.

Respectfully submitted,

Mason

Look at her cunning little face as she plots her next attack.

Look at her cunning little face as she plots her next attack.

Looks innocent, doesn't she, as she rests in her cat nest?

Looks innocent, doesn't she, as she rests in her cat nest? Look at those paws. See what I mean?

Oliver is another story. We have a mutual respect for one another's space. You do not want to mess with him.

Oliver is another story. We have a mutual respect for one another's space. You do not want to mess with him.

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The Secret Lives of Pugs

Have you ever wondered or even fantasized about what your pug(s) does after you leave the house for work each day? I am sure that some of you imagine us doing all kinds of crazy things, while others of you think we merely fall into a coma-like state until your return. Actually, our activities fall somewhere in between these two extremes. The following, dear reader, is a typical day for Lizzie and me, after Mom and Dad leave the apartment.

We usually take a tour of the place, inspecting the floor for any crumbs or long-forgotten tidbits. Sometimes this is a fruitful activity but most often not. After completing our search, we head to our respective beds for a morning nap. This nap can last anywhere from two to three hours, depending on the weather or our moods. Our internal alarm clock always kicks us into an alert state so that we can wait by the door for Billy, our dog walker. As soon as we hear the whine of the elevator, its opening doors, and his footsteps coming down our hall, we are primed and wagging.

After our walk with Billy, he rewards us with some dog treats, which is great cause for celebration. Some further sniffing around often follows Billy’s departure, in case one of us has missed a morsel. On particularly challenging days, I feel the need to attack one of my miserable little stuffed animals…either the squirrel or bear. I beat them, chew on them, shake them violently, and then fall asleep with one of them in my mouth. Lizzie says my snoring is so loud that it wakens her but I say she needs to get over it. Pugs snore and she occasionally contributes to our symphony!

Some days, when I am particularly bored, I will coerce Lizzie into doing some random naughty act…like urging her tip over the garbage (if it has been left out), suggesting that she probably can’t hold her bladder or bowels until Mom or Dad gets home and that it is okay just to do it in the apartment, or sometimes I just tell her scary stories which produces the same results as above. All of these activities help pass the time and keep me entertained. I admit it, I am not proud of myself for setting Lizzie up, but pugs get bored very easily.

And there you have it…a typical day for your pug(s).

Respectfully submitted,

Mason

Here we are, captured by the pug cam, waiting for Billy.

Here we are, captured by the pug cam, waiting for Billy.

Look at your cute little butts heading for the door.

Look at our cute little butts heading for the door.

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