Yesterday I had to be the voice of reason in our marriage, which is worth of a blog itself based on the mere fact that my being the sober thinking member of this duo rarely if ever happened.
Oh. And what I did count double points. I – Momma Pug – said NO to adopting wittle, bitty, cutesie, wootsie baby pug.
The Hubs and I were outside the PetSmart yesterday when we first spotted the fellow dragging a teenage girl around the parking lot in search of yet another tire to pee on. You could tell he was a pug on a mission – pee on every single tire in a three-mile radius. The girl was unwavering. She followed him around and around while he peed and peed and peed some more.
When there absolutely no more peeing to be done, the little ball of tan wrinkles started running around the girl in circles, knotting his leash tightly around her legs. Now, granted, Sonny the Pug is the only pug example I have – and he's old and slow. But this little bastard (her words, not mine) seemed to be extremely quick. So fast, in fact, that the girl was clearly shocked that he'd bound her up so tightly in a matter of mere seconds. You should have seen the look on her face when she tipped over and he screamed TIMBER -- then sat at her feet and laughed and laughed and laughed while she tried to unwind herself. As soon as the girl regained her footing the little dog took off running toward the entrance to PetSmart, dragging her in a nice jog behind.
"I want him," the husband said.
"WHAT?" I asked, incredulous. "Didn't you just SEE what he is capable of!"
"Sonny needs an apprentice and I think that pug's got potential."
"You what?"
"I'm going in to look at him," the husband proclaimed, ignoring my questioning.
"Fine. I'm waiting here. Don't come back with that pug!" I warned.
Now, I know what you're thinking. You're all saying to yourself: HOW CAN MOMMA PUG TURN AWAY AN ORPHAN? HOW CAN YOU WALK AWAY FROM A FREE BABY PUG?
And to this I said, if you asking HOW and WHY then you clearly haven't met Sonny the Pug. If you knew Sonny you'd appreciate the sizable handful he is even though he is old, decrepit and slow. Trust me, you'd be all like RUN MOMMA PUG, RUN FROM THAT ENERGETIC BABY PUG LIKE YOU ARE BEING CHASED BY T-REX. RUN, MOTHERFUCKER, RUN!
Not convinced, let me give you some examples. Sonny the Pug is at least 12 years old and he has done the following:
Stolen and eaten an entire bag of menthol cough drops, leaving a few trapped stuck the hair in his loose folds of skin.
Gone through Madge's suitcase and chewed up her jewelry box, swallowing the black pearl earrings I gave her.
Unpacked his Grumpy's suitcase and stealing his blood sugar monitor.
Pooped in the bed. More than once.
Attacked a Boston Terrier over melted cheese products.
Chased, caught, shaken and in turn been beaten by the cat. He hates all cats.
Ate an entire box of Thin Mints Girl Scout Cookies.
Unstuffed a giant, brand new couch by ripping the zipper off the cushions, climbing inside and pulling all the filling out.
Eating, chewing, ruining every single throw pillow, bed pillow, chair cushion, sofa cushion in my house.
Head butts the wall. Then pees on it.
Speaking of head butting… he once forced the gate open and went five houses down where a roofing crew was working on a house. He only stopped there because it was July and he was hot and tired, and because the crew was on lunch break and feeding him parts of their sandwiches.
Peed on my mother-in-law's Christmas Tree during a holiday party in front of everyone the in-laws know.
The dog is allegedly deaf, but can hear the refrigerator crack open from two states away.
Sonny may fake deafness, but he is definitely toothless. That's why we're not worried too much about him biting a defenseless child.
So walking away from Trouble 2.0 wasn't that hard. Except that it was. And I wanted to bring that baby home so badly. Sometimes the voice of reason sucks.
Oh. And what I did count double points. I – Momma Pug – said NO to adopting wittle, bitty, cutesie, wootsie baby pug.
The Hubs and I were outside the PetSmart yesterday when we first spotted the fellow dragging a teenage girl around the parking lot in search of yet another tire to pee on. You could tell he was a pug on a mission – pee on every single tire in a three-mile radius. The girl was unwavering. She followed him around and around while he peed and peed and peed some more.
When there absolutely no more peeing to be done, the little ball of tan wrinkles started running around the girl in circles, knotting his leash tightly around her legs. Now, granted, Sonny the Pug is the only pug example I have – and he's old and slow. But this little bastard (her words, not mine) seemed to be extremely quick. So fast, in fact, that the girl was clearly shocked that he'd bound her up so tightly in a matter of mere seconds. You should have seen the look on her face when she tipped over and he screamed TIMBER -- then sat at her feet and laughed and laughed and laughed while she tried to unwind herself. As soon as the girl regained her footing the little dog took off running toward the entrance to PetSmart, dragging her in a nice jog behind.
"I want him," the husband said.
"WHAT?" I asked, incredulous. "Didn't you just SEE what he is capable of!"
"Sonny needs an apprentice and I think that pug's got potential."
"You what?"
"I'm going in to look at him," the husband proclaimed, ignoring my questioning.
"Fine. I'm waiting here. Don't come back with that pug!" I warned.
Now, I know what you're thinking. You're all saying to yourself: HOW CAN MOMMA PUG TURN AWAY AN ORPHAN? HOW CAN YOU WALK AWAY FROM A FREE BABY PUG?
And to this I said, if you asking HOW and WHY then you clearly haven't met Sonny the Pug. If you knew Sonny you'd appreciate the sizable handful he is even though he is old, decrepit and slow. Trust me, you'd be all like RUN MOMMA PUG, RUN FROM THAT ENERGETIC BABY PUG LIKE YOU ARE BEING CHASED BY T-REX. RUN, MOTHERFUCKER, RUN!
Not convinced, let me give you some examples. Sonny the Pug is at least 12 years old and he has done the following:
Stolen and eaten an entire bag of menthol cough drops, leaving a few trapped stuck the hair in his loose folds of skin.
Gone through Madge's suitcase and chewed up her jewelry box, swallowing the black pearl earrings I gave her.
Unpacked his Grumpy's suitcase and stealing his blood sugar monitor.
Pooped in the bed. More than once.
Attacked a Boston Terrier over melted cheese products.
Chased, caught, shaken and in turn been beaten by the cat. He hates all cats.
Ate an entire box of Thin Mints Girl Scout Cookies.
Unstuffed a giant, brand new couch by ripping the zipper off the cushions, climbing inside and pulling all the filling out.
Eating, chewing, ruining every single throw pillow, bed pillow, chair cushion, sofa cushion in my house.
Head butts the wall. Then pees on it.
Speaking of head butting… he once forced the gate open and went five houses down where a roofing crew was working on a house. He only stopped there because it was July and he was hot and tired, and because the crew was on lunch break and feeding him parts of their sandwiches.
Peed on my mother-in-law's Christmas Tree during a holiday party in front of everyone the in-laws know.
The dog is allegedly deaf, but can hear the refrigerator crack open from two states away.
Sonny may fake deafness, but he is definitely toothless. That's why we're not worried too much about him biting a defenseless child.
So walking away from Trouble 2.0 wasn't that hard. Except that it was. And I wanted to bring that baby home so badly. Sometimes the voice of reason sucks.
2 comments:
You forgot to mention that he loves big boobs and will keep panties from visitors if he finds them.
Auntie
No, Deuce stole the panties.
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