Tag Archives: shame

Hang My Portrait on The Wall of Shame

Oh my, dear reader, my soul is in turmoil and I am tormented by the demons of my transgressions. It is to this forum that I must turn in confession, lest I find myself spiraling downward into Dante’s ninth circle of Hell.

How to begin? This may be the one blog entry you wish to skip over, and then hope that better days lie ahead for yours truly. I am an addict. There, I’ve said it. I have a vile predilection, a taste for the highly unsavory (by human standards), a penchant for the forbidden. Many of you pugs reading this will know immediately to what I refer, so don’t pretend you don’t.

I thought I was managing this addiction fairly well this summer, but with two highly productive cats and two litter boxes in the house, I am surrounded by temptation on a daily basis. I also have noted that Grandma and Grandpa have become much more lax about maintenance of said boxes. I was weak yesterday, weak with hunger I should say, but the results were disastrous. Apparently this foray was my undoing, my overdose, if you will. The evidence lay all over my bed and when Grandpa discovered it, he ran downstairs to confer with Grandma. It was inconceivable to them that I would soil my own bed, but the evidence was irrefutable. Only today Grandma realized the vile product, that she assumed was “an accident,” was in fact the result of my stomach discharging its rich and toxic contents.

There will be no intervention, but I am guessing there will be greater vigilance for the rest of my stay here. You see the depth of my despair and shame, but at least I won’t be wearing the dreaded diapers that Grandma threatened before she knew the truth.

As the Pet Shop Boys sang, “So I look back upon my life, Forever with a sense of shame, I’ve always been the one to blame, For everything I long to do, No matter where or when or who, Has one thing in common too, It’s a Sin.”

I am a monster.

Respectfully submitted,


P.S. I cannot show my face on this entry.


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A Pug’s Shame

Hi, it’s Lizzie writing since Mason told me I really needed to and I always trust his advice. This has been a very hard week for me, and because I feel so ashamed I’ve decided to confess to all of you.

 I really try to be a good girl and I think I am for the most part, but ever since Mason told me how to get into the garbage can, I’ve been fixated on doing it. Most of the time Mom and Dad remember to pick it up but this Tuesday night they ran out of the apartment for dinner and forgot. I wish I could say Mason helped me, but he didn’t…I did it all by myself. The really scary part is once I’m in the act itself, I tune out the rest of the world. No matter what garbage is in the can, I just dive in and go crazy, which leads me to what happened this particular night. I never heard the door open or my parents come inside. They were standing over me as I was burrowing deep inside the can, with only my tail sticking out. They started screaming and grabbing me before I knew they were even there. Oh my, my…I am such a bad little dog. I don’t know what possesses me to do this disgusting thing that I know makes them so mad. I wish I could say I was sorry, but since I can’t talk, I just make myself as small and quiet as possible. Do you think I have a problem?

 I am still shaking from this awful experience. I wish Mom wouldn’t scare me so, but she does. I am trying to be as good as I can, and I hope I don’t ever do this again, but I can’t be sure I won’t. I hope Mom forgives me. Dad felt bad for me, and I think he talked to Mom about not being so cross.

 Mason thinks this will help my case.  I hope he is right.

Shamefully yours,



Here I am...a much happier time but you can see how aggressive I can get with food.

Here I am...a much happier time but you can see how aggressive I can get with food.


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