Tag Archives: primal

Pugs of the Limberlost, or ATP (All Terrain Pugs)

THIS is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks,

Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight,

Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic,

Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.

Evangeline – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I begin today’s entry, dear reader, with the opening line of Evangeline because it is fitting for my topic. Near my grandparents’ home is a wonderful nature trail around a lake, called Eagle Pond. The trail is cut through a forest of majestic pines which all but obscure daylight from reaching the ground. The trails circle the lake, with steep side paths going down to its shore at various intervals. For a pug, or any other dog for that matter, this spot is heaven on earth. To hike these trails, savoring the rich scent of earth, pine boughs, humus, decaying tree branches, moss, and dog leavings is overwhelming. Our first visit so stimulated Lizzie and me that we couldn’t even make it half way around the lake.

Yesterday, in the late afternoon, Grandma took us to Eagle Pond. Storm clouds were gathering, the sky was darkening, and a few drops of rain fell as we began our hike. It was in this close and ominous atmosphere that I felt most closely connected to my primal roots (literally and figuratively since we are so close to the ground). Untethered, I like to explore off the main trail because experience has taught me that treasures abound in these areas. I am a fearless and independent explorer, as most of you already know. Lizzie, that silly creature, likes to shadow me, but occasionally she, too, gets caught up in a particular scent and loses sight of me. I had to laugh at her yesterday when I saw her trotting ahead on the trail before realizing I wasn’t with her. She gave a quick jump in the air, spun around, and ran back to me. What a twit! Her vain attempt at self-recovery was even more pathetic.

We met up with only a few other dogs – large labs and retrievers who had been swimming – and of course they were impressed by my confidence and masculinity. Owners always struggle with these dogs, trying to regain their control, because after meeting me they don’t wish to leave me. I, however, take only a passing interest in them since they aren’t particularly clever or inventive. They tend to run about wildly… panting, sniffing, retrieving, and trying to play.

By the time we reached the end of the trail, rain was falling steadily, and Lizzie and I were ready to collapse. At home, Grandma fixed us a wonderful dinner of kibbles, squash, and egg so that we could recover our strength.It was an early evening for yours truly.

I will think of Eagle Pond fondly and sadly every time Lizzie and I are taken out for a walk in Manhattan.

Respectfully submitted,

Mason

P.S. These are poor photos today because Grandma just had her cell phone, but at least you can sense the majesty and scale of this forest.

My backside, but look at the gloomy aspect of this trail and appreciate my fearless heart.

My backside, but look at the gloomy aspect of this trail and appreciate my fearless heart.

Lizzie on a trail leading to the shore. She is blurry, but who cares?

Lizzie on a trail leading to the shore. She is blurry, but who cares?

Here we are exploring a side trail. Again, Lizzie is blurry, but who cares?

Here we are exploring a side trail. Again, Lizzie is blurry, but who cares?

Leave a comment

Filed under Uncategorized

Pugs Gone Wild or Down and Dirty in Manhattan

It is has a very dry spell for me, dear reader, since Grandma was called to San Diego on an emergency for two weeks. She is my transcriber and without her, I have no voice. So, no worries…I am back with words unwritten and thoughts unspoken.

 In the spring a young (or more mature) pug’s fancy lightly turns to digging in the earth.  I do apologize for the brutal paraphrasing of Tennyson’s “Locksley Hall” but spring is finally in the air for us poor northeastern beasts. Mom took Lizzie and me to the park on the East River this Saturday and we certainly took time to smell the flowers…not only to smell them but also to dig them up! Lizzie and I could not stop digging and flinging dirt with wild abandon. What a glorious time for us. I know Mom was beside herself since she has no idea what would cause a normally decorous and dignified adult male pug to give in to the most primal animal urge. Digging releases all kinds of pent up winter emotions, allowing us pugs to connect with our inner dog. No, we aren’t looking for bones, garbage, or dead rodents…just inhaling Mother Nature’s bounty. We love dirt, we love its smell as it awakens in the spring, we love throwing it about, and we, literally, just dig it. There is no deep, meaningful purpose associated with this activity. We are just pugs experiencing our version of spring fever.

 So, with the coming of spring I know that moving to the Cape for the summer cannot be far behind. Oh happy day!

 More later….

 Respectfully submitted,

 Mason 

 

Look at us last summer on an island, looking for clams to dig

Look at us last summer on an island, scanning the beach for clams.

 

Here's another from the archives...I can hardly wait!

Here's another from the archives...I can hardly wait!

Leave a comment

Filed under Uncategorized