The Mother and Child Reunion, or I Never Can Say Goodbye

Sometimes, dear reader, rock and roll says it best, but perhaps I am just wallowing in my memories of a perfect, long, weekend reunion with my mom and dad. They arrived late Wednesday night and until they left, late Sunday afternoon, Lizzie and I were cosseted and cuddled by them.

It’s funny how you can manage the pain of separation from loved ones until you actually see them again, and then you suddenly realize there has been an opening in your heart that now is filled. This realization became vividly apparent once I was in my mom’s arms again.

We spent time walking on the beach, playing badminton, having cookouts, and riding in the boat.  Our nights were spent sharing our parents’ bed, where I was once again able to wrap myself around my mom’s head on top of her pillow. Lizzard prefers a deep burrow, under the covers, with mornings spent wrapped in Dad’s arms. Ah, what incredible bliss for us. I cannot speak for Lizzie, but to me no time could have been sweeter.

When their car left late Sunday, I was so exhausted that I could barely grieve. I craved a long nap and, for once, did not even think about dinner. I know Grandma and Grandpa miss my parents and are already looking forward to their August visit.

Like the Cape weather, my moods change rapidly. They can be rainy one minute and the sunny the next…depending upon our plans. This week begins our reading tour of the libraries, with the first at the Marstons Mills Library on Thursday at 10 AM and the Brewster Ladies Library on Friday at 2 PM. I hope people come to meet us and buy our book.

I know tomorrow will find me filled with renewed hope and vigor, but for today, color me blue.

Respectfully submitted,

Mason

Check out yours truly, sporting a pair of bad chrome "doggles" Mom sent me this weekend. I look incredibly hot, don't I?

Lizzie, however, looks like a total idiot. It wasn't bad enough to put her in a pair, but they gave her pink!

Our "under the boardwalk" moment, only we use beach chairs for shelter

Here I am obeying the jump command for Grandma. Mom loved watching me as I cleared the thrown together/ghetto looking jump course.

Touch Me, It’s So Easy to Leave Me, All Alone With the Memory

What a weekend we had! What joy, what bliss, what love, and dear God, what glorious treats! Grandma, like the postman, delivers. The lyrics of the song “Memory” from Cats sums up my Monday morning…she touched me and left me with my memories.

 I’m afraid that my memory bank is on overdrive and so, dear reader, bear with me for today’s entry, since it must take a somewhat divergent path from its usual lyrical flow of words.

 The biggest news is our book, SUMMER PUGS. Yes, it is ready for your viewing pleasure at:

http://www.lulu.com/content/paperback-book/summer-pugs/6855940

Here we are on the cover of our first book! I think Lizzie looks a bit arrogant, don't you?

I haven’t actually seen this tome but Mom gets very emotional when looking at it so I’m afraid I will have to reserve judgment about its literary or pictorial merits. But since so many of you seem to enjoy our photos, feel free to indulge your personal pug passions.

 Also noteworthy is our entry into the Valentino: The Last Emperor pug photo competition. Not only was our photo selected as a finalist, but also is it displayed in the lobby of the Felt Forum Theatre in Manhattan, where the documentary is showing. Again, it is with great relief that pugs cannot accompany their owners to movies because I understand from Grandma that my mother made a complete spectacle of herself when she went to the film a second time this weekend. I know she loses her normal cool business exterior when it comes to anything having to do with Lizzie and me, and so, I can only imagine her wild reaction upon seeing our faces on the movie poster.

I know the quality of this is poor but here is the poster in the lobby. Mom used her phone camera and was undoubtedly shaking like a leaf. Lizzie and I are on the right hand side sitting behind a platter of lobsters.

 I am exhausted, a bit bored, lonely, let down, and overwhelmed today but rest assured that I will be writing my usual insightful, focused, and eloquent entry quite soon. I just need a day of recovery.

 

 Respectfully submitted,

 Mason

 

 

But Whenever Monday Comes You Can Find Me Cryin’ All of The Time – A Pug’s Lament

I know that whatever goes up must come down and this is particularly true for a pug on Monday mornings. The Mamas and the Papas got it right in their Monday, Monday lyrics.

I don’t think there is an easy way down when a weekend has been so filled with love, attention, outings, and quality time. This was such a weekend…perfect weather and an inordinate amount of time with Mom. I felt reborn, completely hers, wrapped in the cashmere of her love, and then came the Monday morning reality check.

Lizzard doesn’t feel it because she is so amoeba-like in her wiring…as long as she is fed and curled up someplace warm and soft, she is happy. I, however, have much more refined and patrician needs. I am cursed with such sensitivity that, like the fabled princess who slept on a hundred mattresses covering a pea and suffered from the painful lump, I awake suffering from the pain of Monday morning.

Not to belabor this metaphor, I must move on and find the strength to make it through today. Knowing that Mom is suffering from the same pangs while at work is small comfort for me. I guess I’ll take my cue from Lizzard and snooze until the workday has ended.

Respectfully submitted,

Mason

A portrait of a pug in pain as he struggles to escape into sleep.