Tag Archives: sun

Buffalo Pizzle, A Gentle Breeze, and Good Company

Something about the weather, the angle of the sun, the relaxed atmosphere that led Grandma to the cupboard for our stash of buffalo pizzles…They are stinky, foul smelling items but to us the greatest treat in the world. Daphne, of course, as our leader, would never dream of joining us on the grass for these delicacies. She always separates herself from the pack…something about maintaining a certain discipline and distance I think. She will inhale hers while we are still sucking and chewing away. Poor old Cecily though…because she is both blind and deaf, she loses hers easily and then she wanders around trying to find it. Grandma always keeps one eye on her though so she doesn’t harm herself.

What a summer this has been for us Fresh Air Fund dogs…the most fun of all is playing Treibball with Daphne. Actually, it is Daphne who herds the ball and we just chase her, barking crazily. it is exhausting because she is so fast, chasing that ball through the woods, around trees, up and down little hills, all the while howling and screaming at it like a foxhound on the scent. When Grandma and Grandpa say we’ve had enough, we collapse with our little sides heaving and our tongues going in and out so fast from panting…but it is the greatest thing ever!

I know some great big dogs are coming tonight and that worries me a bit…two Bernese Mountain dogs, and one huge Labrador…Grandma says she will make sure we are safe though. It is going to be really quiet in NY when we return, but at least Maisie and I have each other during the days.

Last night Grandma had a few leftover scraps of salmon to add to our dinner. The smell was driving us mad and the taste was out of this world…wouldn’t mind having that every night!.

I’ve included some photos of our pizzle party and a video of us playing Treibball…

Until next time,

Phillip

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A Nip in The Air, A Bone in The Grass…Pug’s Delight

Were I a skilled artist, I would paint a canvas using vivid oranges, reds, yellows, and rich greens, browns, and purples. I cannot begin to understand why I wax poetic once September makes an appearance, but suddenly the nights become cool so that Grandma must close the windows and doors, the mornings require sweatshirts, the sun’s rays reach the earth in a way that pleases both humans and animals, a dry, crisp breeze blows steadily, redolent with the scent of smoke and dying leaves.

For a pug it is the time of most intense and exquisite pleasure. I awaken with a new vigor, greet the day with wild abandon, enjoy my breakfast of squash and kibbles with a long missed passion, and am ready to embrace the ground upon which I walk with gratitude and joy. To take a large marrowbone outside at this time of year is to lose oneself completely in the simple task of emptying its treasures.

On one such day I lost time and myself. Grandma, for the first time ever, had to come and carry me in for supper. After dinner I demanded to be let back out so I could again pursue my soothing activity. I suspect Grandma forgot about me because she didn’t come for me until bedtime. A beautiful new moon had risen, the owls had started hooting, the grass was wet with dew, and yet I remained stretched out on the grass savoring the juices of my effort.

While I was reluctant to leave my spot, the night air was making me unusually sleepy. These nights bring the deepest most satisfying sleep and some mornings  I now must be awakened for breakfast. Some of you will ask yourselves why an old curmudgeon of a pug would write such a sensitive blog today, and I must confess that I don’t really have a clue. Maybe I feel sentimental because my time on Cape Cod is drawing to a close, the weather is changing, or I know winter cannot be far behind. Any one of or all of these reasons will suffice. I am a multi-faceted pug who likes to savor the bounties of Mother Nature.

Tonight my mom and dad arrive for the long weekend and we’ve so much planned for their visit. Happy Labor Day, dear reader!

Respectfully submitted,

Mason

P.S. In case you think I’ve lost my edge, Lizzie is still a fool.

Here I am with the mother bone, warning Grandma to keep away.

Here I am with the mother bone, warning Grandma to keep away.

I like this view because you can see how skilled I am with managing large objects.

I like this view because you can see how skilled I am with managing large objects.

Here I am in the full September sun enjoying myself and wishing Grandma would just leave me alone!

Here I am in the full September sun enjoying myself and wishing Grandma would just leave me alone!

Look at that fool Lizzie. This is what she does in September sun...what a waste.

Look at that fool Lizzie. This is what she does in September sun...what a waste.

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Pug Perfect, or A Pug Tale of No Consequence

Mason is so busy chewing his marrowbone that he requested I do today’s blog. His words were,  “Go write your usual sappy drivel, Lizzard, but just don’t bother me!” That Mason, isn’t he the funniest old thing? At any rate, I thought it might be nice to share with you one of the most wonderful days ever.

I’m sure Mason would argue about that, only because he never likes to agree with me, but yesterday was really pug perfect. Grandma and Grandpa asked if we wanted to go out to the island on the boat with them, and of course we went crazy with excitement. I love standing on the pier waiting for Grandpa to come up in his boat, load us and all of our stuff onto it, and then head out to the island. The breeze was perfect, blowing my ears gently as I cuddled up with Grandma in the front of the boat.

As soon as we anchored and went ashore, I found my spot…behind Grandma’s chair under her draped beach towel. It makes a perfect shelter from the sun so that I can nap comfortably while the onshore breeze keeps me cool. There is always a nice bowl of water in my tent, so it couldn’t be better. Mason is busy, always busy searching for food, running from one person to the next. He goes swimming to keep cool but won’t take shelter because he is so afraid of missing a crumb of food. Finally he fell asleep in Grandpa’s arms, but his eyes would snap open the minute he heard any sound at all. I really wish he could relax.

The trip home was equally good because we were so pooped. Mason does sleep then. After he had a shower with Grandma (because he went swimming) we got ready for dinner at friends of my grandparents. What a yummy dinner it was! Fresh tuna steaks, seared on the grill but raw inside! We actually had some and Mason then became a crazy man. After dinner we went outside to watch the meteor showers. We sat on lawn chairs just staring up at the sky. I lay on Grandma’s lap and Mason on Grandpa’s. It was so quiet and beautiful that I felt this amazing connection to nature.

So you see, it was not an exciting day, but for me, a perfect one. Mason just read this, laughed, and said that I am a Pollyanna who lives in “la la” land and I have no connection to anything. I am going to disagree with him this time.

Pugs and kisses,

Lizzie

Mason chose this because he said everyone will laugh at me when they see it. I don't know why.

Mason chose this because he said everyone will laugh at me when they see it. I don't know why.

And then he added this close up because he wants his readers to see what a loser he is living with. Whatever, Mason.

And then he added this close up because he wants his readers to see what a loser he is living with. Whatever, Mason.

Mason said to say, "This is what a true representative of the breed should look like."

Mason said to say, "This is what a true representative of the breed should look like."

Here I am in my shelter by the sea.

Here I am in my shelter by the sea.

Here is Mason asleep on Grandpa's chest. He,he,he...I slipped this past him!

Here is Mason asleep on Grandpa's chest. He,he,he...I slipped this past him! He doesn't look so fierce now, does he?

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Here Comes The Sun, or June Is Busting Out All Over

When Helios’ golden chariot soared across the heavens yesterday morning, I for one, did not take its appearance lightly. Oh no, not this soggy, squishy, damp pug! We all had great reason for jubilation and celebration. Those of us living in the northeast truly appreciate the warmth and drying benefits of the sun. We wait nine months for this time of year, and so far, we’ve been cheated.

It was with gay abandon that I headed to the yard, hopeful that the healing and drying powers of Old Sol would work its magic as I lay in the grass, having a chew on my bully stick. But lo and behold, the grass was sopping wet and uninviting. Foiled again by Mother Nature, I abandoned my plan and headed back inside to masticate and savor this treat. But you know what? It just doesn’t have the same cache indoors. It is a manly stick, designed for consumption in the great outdoors…an al fresco treat, if you will.

Wouldn’t you know it, though, that simpleton Lizzie just gnawed and chewed away at hers, blissfully unaware of how flat its flavor is when consumed on a rug indoors. I was quite frankly disgusted by her behavior, and against my natural instinct, turned away from its enticing aroma and appearance. After she finished hers she then went for mine. She is a twit and I didn’t even have interest in wresting it away from her pitiful little excuse of a mouth. She rolled her goofy eyes back in ecstasy and drooled like an idiot while I held myself apart from this wanton display.

Yes, the weather is here finally, but I will wait until all conditions are perfect before I indulge in my favorite activity.

Respectfully submitted,

Mason

This clearly shows the intense level of our boredom after so many weeks of rain. I apologize for its inclusion but without proof you might not grasp the severity of our plight...sunnier photos to follow!

This clearly shows the intense level of our boredom after so many weeks of rain. I apologize for its inclusion but without proof you might not grasp the severity of our plight...sunnier photos to follow!

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Lord of My Things…The Pug Possessive Case

The day was simply gorgeous. We saw the sun for the first time in many days and I, for one, was ready to snag my quota of Vitamin D. Grandma helped me in that endeavor by supplying me with a “Bully Stick” of handsome proportions.

With no interest in the activities of anyone else or curiosity about the doings of Lizzie, I trotted forth into the back yard, found my spotlight of sun, lowered myself onto the grass, and began the laborious process of consuming this braided beast.

I lost all track of time and it was only when I began the dreaded gagging and choking that Grandma appeared, falsely praising me for my fine efforts. I know from past history that when she takes that tone and utters those words, that I am about to be separated from my prized possession. I replied with threatening gurgles and rumbles through tightly clenched teeth, warning her away from me. She, undaunted, proceeded to pluck me up and wrench it from my jaws. It was beautiful, honed to slimy perfection…one end still hard and intact, and the other a viscera-like Udon noodle of bull pizzle. How could she be so cruel? I was so happy. So what if I choked and gagged a bit? Foiled again by my cruel summer mistress.

Now, here comes the crushing irony in my cautionary tale. The next time I was outside I hid that little piece of heaven back in the woods, so that at a later date I might enjoy its forbidden pleasure. Wouldn’t you know it though, that little ditsy pea brain Lizzie found it, took it onto the deck and proceeded to enjoy it herself. In all of her glorious stupidity, the little twit just assumed it was hers…left for her by the pizzle fairies!

Life can be so unfair at times.

Respectfully submitted,

Mason

Here I am with the prize...the stride of pride. This is an earlier bully stick...not the one of which I write, but you get the idea.

Here I am with the prize...making the stride of pride. This is an earlier bully stick...not the one of which I write, but you get the idea.

I've begun the laborious work shaping and molding

I've begun the laborious work of shaping and molding.

A certain amount of licking is involved. This is not something an amateur should attempt.

A certain amount of licking is involved. This is not something an amateur should attempt.

As you can see, I have much still to do. It is exhausting but worth the time and effort, as are most things in life, until someone snatches it away from you!

As you can see, I still have much to do. It is exhausting but worth the time and effort, as are most things in life, until someone snatches it away from you!

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