What is it about pugs that make their owners or caregivers absolutely obsessed with dressing them in costumes? Aren’t we cute or handsome enough without any adornments? I don’t have the numbers to prove my point, but my guess is that the vast majority of pug owners buy at least one outfit for their pug (usually more because the habit grows) and dress said pug up at least for one holiday and usually more each year.
Is it that our unusual facial structures or incredibly appealing bodies invite such foolishness, or is it that we are such compliant and agreeable creatures that we a actually encourage this bizarre human compulsion? Perhaps it is a combination of both. Whatever the reason, we are the objects of much fussing, hilarity, shopping, and picture taking. This Sunday was no exception for yours truly. It wasn’t enough that Lizzard and I had behaved like superstars for two book readings and signings on Thursday and Friday, but on Sunday we were forced into the dreaded “doggles” and placed in our newly purchased wading pool for another photo op!
I am, if nothing else, a true professional and know how to do what is expected of me because, as experience has taught me, there is always a carrot at the end of the ordeal (or some other equally desirable treat). Lizzard, however, is nothing but a little baby…who struggles against the activity, running around like a wild animal, refusing to just relax and accept the inevitable. You’d think she would have the sense to just observe a pro like me, but no, she doesn’t.
After the donning of the doggles, we were lowered into the pool, which had been thoughtfully laden with carrots (Grandma thought that would sweeten the chore) and asked to pose fetchingly. I quickly assessed the situation and gave my best James Dean tough look, while Lizzie dropped her tail and hung her little head (pathetic beast). It was over in a flash and we were free. While Lizzie pawed off her eyewear, I trotted away proudly bearing a prize carrot, oblivious to the offending doggles, and enjoyed my treat.
A lesson, dear reader: don’t trust your fantasies to an amateur…a trained professional is always the best choice. Enjoy the photos and forgive my choice of Madonna lyrics in today’s title, but sometimes a pop song says it best.