The tales of two pernicious pugs and their doormat.
Monday, July 30, 2007
Cold...so very cold...
Today is Babar's last checkup at the vet - from this day forward, he's no longer a puppy. He's an adult pug. Well, at least that's what my vet wants me to believe, so I can spend another $300 on the adult plan this year, since he already convinced me to spend $200 on the puppy plan last year. So the poor pug was bundled up, tossed in the car, and handed over to the vet's receptionist. During it all, he was wagging his tail like it was motor-powered, and licking everyone in sight. Poor pup - doesn't know what's in store for him. Now I've returned home to a empty apartment...so dark...so QUIET. I'm lonely. Although I may oftentimes wish my pug was 100 miles away, especially when he gets into one of his moods and wants to chew my fingers to the bone, and then munch those down his throat.... but when he's gone, I miss the little bastard. Why? I don't know. Perhaps I'm a sadomasochist. Or mebbe I just love that darn dog too much for my own good. He's also a great entertainer. He's got such an expressive face, so even the slightest little movement says volumes - I laugh myself silly sometimes. Lately he's taken to acting even more like a spoiled child - he's realized that he can tug on my pants or dress to get my attention, and the little monster does it ALL THE FRACKING TIME. I look at him and I see his little brain spouting, "Mommy?! Mommy?! MOMMY!? Attention!! Give me attention! I am the center of this universe!! Attention!! Attention!!" He's also developed his own little form of language - he rarely barks, and almost never at me, but he will go from grumbling, to whining, to short little yips, depending on what he wants. It's almost endearing, but not quite because it annoys the hell out of me. Unless he's doing it to someone else. Then I just laugh my pants off. Oh, well. Enough of this pug talk - I've got work to do, and I'd better get to it. Ciao!