Tag Archives: pack

Sisterhood of the Traveling Pack, or I’ll Never Understand Females

Just when I thought I had a fairly good handle on the various personalities, positions, and alignments of my pack I get blindsided by aberrant female behavior. Now those of you who are long-time readers of my blog, know of my grudging tolerance /respect for Lizzie. You also know that after nearly three years of living with her I have a pretty clear understanding of how she functions, which is with serious limitations! So, it came as a huge shock when the most recent events unfolded.

This weekend on the Cape was unremarkable in that no parties or outings were scheduled, and we were, for the most part, at home relaxing. On one such day, our little hedgehog Lizzie discovered a neglected marrowbone, still filled with much marrow and redolent of its earthy nest in the yard. She, quietly and unobtrusively, proceeded to work on its juicy treasures, seemingly unnoticed by the rest of the pack. Daphne, however, the nine-month old Frenchie and the bane of my existence, caught a glimpse of this activity and moved over swiftly to take control of said bone. Out of nowhere, with the ferocity of a cougar and the roar of a lion, Lizzie sprang for her. I must say that Daphne and I have gone at one another many times since our arrival, with neither of us backing down, but in this instance she retreated, looking confused and bewildered. Not convinced this was a real response from Lizzie, Daphne again approached and received the same warning. Imagine, dear reader, a very small, round, shy and foolish little pug with probably about five teeth in her head, terrifying a fearless French bulldog. I felt certain I was mistaken in what I had witnessed.

But lo, again a very interesting scene unfolded, involving the three females. Each morning the three of them hop up in an overstuffed chair and do a three-way wrestling activity that can go on for fifteen or twenty minutes. It is fascinating to watch…just the three females…in a very intense but loving ballet. This morning, however, Daphne got a little too intense with Cecily, who then took the maternal role of chastising her a bit with stronger bites and some high-pitched howling. Again, surprising this old veteran of dog play/fights, Lizzie jumped on Cecily’s back, wrapping both front paws around her and began to lick her ears and face in an attempt to comfort her. She sensed how upset Cecily was with Daphne’s rough play. I cannot understand, for the life of me, how these three consistently play, fight, comfort, and then repeat it all again! What is it about being a female that allows such an incredible mood change? Females are the final frontier for this old male.

And there you have it… an observation from a venerable vantage point.

Respectfully submitted,

Mason

Here is how it begins...

And then it escalates a bit.

And then they are all "lovey dovey." Go figure.

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Pug Pack Plus One, or I’m Still the Master of My Domain

Oh, dear reader, you must not construe my long absence as anything more than a much needed transition period and adjustment to our Cape Cod life. Since we are now four, our settling in has taken longer than normal. The irony, however, is that Lizzie and I have not been the ones upsetting the proverbial apple cart. I do believe that we are no longer on trial, as Grandma so cruelly mentioned. I think that Daphne, the nine-month old Frenchie is the (dare I say it?) bone of contention. She is a ferocious alpha bulldog, who is ready to battle at the drop of the first crumb. She has gone for my throat countless times, after which Grandma swiftly carries her into the dark powder room and leaves her for ten seconds as a “time out.”  I don’t know how effective this training method is, but Grandma is fierce in her determination to correct her unacceptable behavior. Wait a minute…this is what I do! At any rate, as long as Daphne (or Daphinator, Daffy, or Doodlebug as she is referred to) and I don’t have food or a bone between us, we co-exist fairly well.

Walks at Eagle Pond are one of our favorite outings and we present quite a picture to fellow dogs and dog walkers, as we troop along the trail at our own pace. I did take a slight detour this weekend, as I was feeling fairly parched from our hike, and left the bridge for the swamp beneath it. While the water was brackish, I drank fully and greedily. When Mom saw me, she shrieked and snatched me up from the muddy quagmire. At home I was immediately bathed and swaddled in a towel. I will never understand why humans are so offended by the sight of muddy paws and their accompanying earthy scent.

Our weekend was absolute perfection…Mom and Dad arrived Friday night, the weather was sublime, food and treats were plentiful, and nights were spent cuddled with the humans we love most.

And yes, my eye continues to heal and the prognosis is good but I will be forced to endure eye drops three times a day for the rest of my life. Oh well, my meals now consist of a bowl of pills and liquids with a few kibbles thrown in for flavor. Such is the fate of a senior pug with many ailments, much like an old human man similarly afflicted.

The good news is that we are becoming a pack, which delights the humans to no end. We mix and match throughout the day but oftentimes we function as one unit. Lizzie, for some reason that I cannot fathom, seems to be the lodestone to which we are all drawn. More on that phenomena later.

Respectfully submitted,

Mason

Yours truly waiting...always waiting...at Grandma and Grandpa's backdoor.

Here is the pack at Eagle Pond..formidable, aren't we?

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