My Christmas List 2009

A Merry Christmas to all my fans out there. Please know that my love for you will last forever, or as long as some one else does not pet me or give me a treat, or as long as you don't pass by the front window unannounced.

As such nearly boundless love suggests, I, Poppy, am a very giving pug. In fact, I love to give more than to receive. Mostly I love to give kisses. My kisses, much like this blog, are bottomless. Unlike this blog, they are also very wet.

But since this is the season of giving I thought that I would take this blogging opportunity to tell you about what I am going to give to my friends this Christmas Day. Here is the list:

For my cousin Lucky: Chewies. Delish.
For my cousins Bear and Lucy: Chewies. Delish.
For my cousins Bear and Lucy's other grandparents' new dog: Ditto.
For my cousin Tucker. Ditto.
For my cousin Penelope: A new collar. (That is right. I have a cousin called Penelope. Apparently, ours is a popular name for pugs and pug-mixes). Don't tell my cousin, but I have noticed that she is getting a little round, hence the need for a new collar. However, to avoid hurting her feelings, I will tell her that I am giving her the collar because its pretty purple flowers would look so nice next to her Puggle fur.
For my brother Duncan: Nothing. He will get me nothing, as well. It is very important that we maintain the charade of indifference toward each other.

Pug Dog Day

Happy February 2 to all my fans! Remember, February 2 is the day when the pug emerges from her crate, checks the temperature at the doggie door, and decides whether to go outside or to stay in. If she stays in, that means that it is a cold day. If she goes out, that means that it is over 40 degrees.

I understand that groundhogs have taken over this day. I noticed that the groundhog on Long Island bit Mayor Bloomberg, drawing blood. All Mayor Bloomberg was doing was feeding Chuck, the groundhog. I, Poppy, would never bite Mayor Bloomberg -- especially if he were offering me a treat. I would eat the treat and then ask for more.

All Hallow's Dogs

Candy, Candy Everywhere...

Tonight is Halloween. That means that I wear my pumpkin costume and try to sneak candy out of the bowl. Just a few minutes ago, a found a wrapper and tried to eat it. It took two humans to corner me and force it out of my mouth. Such is my dedication to eating things.

All night children have been coming to the house and leaving with candy. They have big bags full of it. But my favorite thing about children is that they pet me and tell me I am cute. Sometimes they are more interested in petting me than they are interested in getting candy. Whenever they knock on the door, I get excited and rush to greet them. My tail wags the whole time.

Ceasefire

The bombardment has let up. The only sounds from outside are the pigeons who live in our eaves.

I am still on guard. Mommy sneezed, and I jumped.

Still Under Attack

We are alone now. The Ones With Thumbs have sealed up the house like it is a fortress. The blinds are closed. The doors are closed. We go out into the yard only for emergencies, then run right back in, bright chrysanthemums of light exploding behind us.

Attack!

We are under siege and have been since last night. The popping and whizzing noises from outside subsided for a while this morning, but now they are just as intense -- perhaps more so -- than ever before. The explosions are loud, and they are always followed by strange primate screams and laughter. Something very cruel is going on out there. I respond by barking and then lying with my eyes open extra wide, my chin in between my paws. Will this never end?