If all goes well, the crate I set up next to Alfie's in my bedroom will be empty no longer. Hoping to bring Waffles home tomorrow after the show. Actually, the crate isn't empty. I've been getting it set up for weeks. Inside is Waffle's bed and toys including a long skinny monkey and a purple sheep. Alfie's wondering what's up. I'm excited, nervous, expectant.
On the Road
We're on the road again tonight and tomorrow. Alfie and I are headed off to another dog show in Ballston Spa, NY. There are supposed to be 43 pugs entered. We're keeping our fingers crossed that either it will stop raining or we'll be under a tent because Alfie doesn't like to get her feet wet. Wish us luck!
Vader's Beds
Since his death, Vader's beds have sat empty. Always a sad reminder for any dog owner, but this was particularly challenging for me given the fact that two of them bear monogrammed covers of his name "VADER" in big letters. As he began to age, I brought him items to make his life more comfortable. This included two, huge Tempurpedic-like beds from Orvis, designed to take the pressure off his tired joints. I had these monogrammed. I kept one of them downstairs and the other upstairs in my office. I could never let Alfie near the beds because she liked to pee on them and even though they had removable covers, they were still a challenge to clean. So after Vader died, I couldn't decide what to do with them.
They are big and take up a lot of room, so just having them sit as targets for Alfie's active bladder did not seem like a good idea. I thought of giving them to my friend Joan, but she is in the process of moving and is trying to rid herself of excess dog products not add more. I propped the downstairs bed up on his side to make more room in the dining room, but left the one in my office there to see if Alfie might use it for something other than a toilet. Last week she finally did.
Alfie has gotten very attached to me since Vader died and often comes and sits on the floor beside me as I write and make my phone calls. Last week, I caught her looking at Vader's bed. She actually approached it nervously, sort of at a crawl, sniffing. Her head darted from side to side, looking for something. I'm not sure if she was expecting him to dart out from nowhere and attack her or for me to scold her, but once she seemed to deem it safe, she hopped up, started scratching and spinning and finally plopped down in the center of the bed, content. She looked like a queen claiming her throne.
She has avoided the bed since then. Mostly I think because it has been too hot, but today I found her back in the bed again. This time even more relaxed. This simple act brought me such great pleasure. I did not want these beds to sit empty as silent testaments to Vader's life and death and I really didn't want to get rid of them. Partly because they are so nice, mostly because they bear his name. When Alfie curls up to nap in Vader's bed, I feel both my dogs nearby -- the one in the room and the one in my heart.
Expanse of Time
Alfie and Waffles
The first pug I ever met was my brother Paul's dog Buffy. Although she was his dog in name she became mine in heart, and I took to her from the moment she walked in the doors and jumped in my lap. She led me two-and-a-half years later to adopt my own pug, Vader. For 12 golden years we shared a life together -- the three of us amidst the rest of my family and all the friends who've come and gone -- it seemed a long untouched perfect time, the way you look back at your childhood and remember an endless, happy expanse, even if it wasn't always. Then Buffy died and time sped up like fast-forward on a DVD player. I went in search of a new puppy and found a wonderful clown of a girl, New Year's Hope Sadie's Miracle, a.k.a. Mira.
She was my "juvenile delinquent," always in trouble. Once she actually stole my earrings right out of my ears and I hardly noticed. She was a Labrador Retriever of a pug, meaning she gave up many of her pug-like ways in favor of being a big floppy, love bug of a dog. My mother says she was "flopsy, mopsy, and cottontail all rolled into one." She was bigger and leggier than most pugs and had a big-dog personality. Even my non-pug loving, non-dog loving friends liked her, dropping to the floor to let her play in their laps. She lived to be only a year-and-a-half old before dying from a reaction to her distemper shot. Her breeder felt so sorry for me, although it was no fault of hers, that she promised me a new pug and after a long series of events, she eventually came through with my Alfie.
It was scary opening my heart up to another pug after first losing Buffy and Mira so quickly on her heels. Now two years later Vader passed away at 14 and I have decided to add Waffles to my clan.
It is also a scary decision. For so long it seemed like it was just Buffy, Vader and me -- my shadow and my Little Man. Buffy worshipped me, Vader was the Man and I moved forward as if they were always going to be there. Mira offered new hope, Alfie a second chance at that and soon t here will be Waffles.
I almost adopted her two years ago right after I brought Alfie home, but with a new puppy already in hand an older dog getting older, it didn't seem the right time to add another to the mix. As time passed, I thought of her more and more as my friend Joan's dog. I expected when Vader died to add another male pug to the family.
Then shortly after Vader died, Alfie and I went to visit Joan and out darted Waffles straight into the open door of my car. She climbed up in Alfie's car seat and looked out the window as if to say, "Okay, when are we going?" I had to laugh and from that time on I began to open my heart to her again.
But I have to admit I've still been scared. Alfie has become my constant companion, sticking even closer to me perhaps than Buffy, my former "glue" dog ever had. I worry will Waffi upset this? Will I have room in my heart for two of them? I've always taken in my dogs as puppies. What will it be like to take home this grown up girl?
I'm not sure what's really at the heart of all my worries. Perhaps part of it has to do with the fact that I do not live in a house alone and every decision I make to get a dog must take into account how it will affect others or at the very least their reactions to it. Perhaps it is because Joan has become attached to Waffi and is hesitant to give her up. Maybe I don't want to get my hopes up until I am sure she will be mine.
I think most of it, however, may have to do with the fact that I have learned, as every dog lover must, that there is no endless, happy expanse of time with these creatures and that once you do embrace them, no matter what, the time will be too short.
Pug Puppies on the Move
My friend Joan and I drove to Battenkill Books in Cambridge, NY tonight to listen to writer Jon Katz talk about his new e-book The Story of Rose. Because Joan has a three-week-old litter of pug puppies that shouldn't be left alone, unwatched, for long periods of time, we left them with my mom with the assurance that they were too young to be much trouble.
"None of them are even moving," I assured her. And, yesterday they hadn't been.
Granted one or two had managed to make it over the lip of their box and onto the floor, but they didn't do much after that other than roll over on their backs and fall asleep. That was until tonight. By the time we returned home all five were crawling and sliding all over the place -- one had found its way to the water dish and Mom had to rescue the little guy before he drowned. She said she wasn't all that worried because not only had he learned to walk, but he seemed to know the dog paddle, too. Another was sipping water form the water bowl and a third was attempting to nibble on the dry food. The poor Momma was suddenly beside herself trying to keep them all in the pen.
Inspired by the multimedia approach of Jon's new book, I decided to try to get a video of the one I called Batman walking around, although the light wasn't that good. Still, you get a chance to see him as he tries to gain footing on the slippery wooden floor. Also, in the video he has an unfortunate accident. Another first, as you might be able to ascertain by the gleeful way I exclaim, "Joan, he's pooped!"
Warning: This video shows his Momma cleaning up after him.
Those of you familiar with puppies won't be disgusted by this, but it is a little hard to take when the Momma in turn tries to kiss you moments later. At least that wasn't captured on camera!
The Journey to Keene
I've been attending dog shows with my friend Joan almost since I first met her, and my favorite dog show each year is the one that takes place in Keene, NH. It is a one-day show, low key. it takes place in a wooded area. Even among the professional handlers I feel no pressure there -- like maybe I have a chance. I got the first points I ever earned on a dog at Keene, Joan's dog Lumpi. And, today my pug, Alfie, showed well there. The best she has done to date. The judge noticed her, gave her time and even considered putting us up for reserve. We didn't make that, but you could tell we were considered and that made me feel great.
I also love Keene for the journey. After the show, Joan, our other friend, Jane, and I usually take a scenic route home. We find an out-of-the way diner or restaurant that we've never tried before and order a big breakfast. We often go back through Chester, stop at the Vermont Country Store and at our friends' inn, The Williams River House. The innkeepers, Geoff and Mark, own two of Joan's dogs, Buzz and Dudley, a.k.a., The Big Mamoo. Mamoo was the name we gave him before he went to live with Mark and Geoff. For a while, I kept Mamoo before it was time for him to go to his new home and when that time came I didn't want him to leave. I asked Joan if I could have him and I asked Mark if he would mind considering adopting another of Joan's pugs, but it was too late the deal was done. So, I brought him to his new home in Chester and for a while we would pick him up each year and show him until he became too old. I even took him to Pug Nationals in San Antonio, Texas.
So our trip to Keene is also a chance to reconnect with this wonderful dog. Today, we stopped and showed Geoff and Mark Joan's new puppies. It had been a while since Mamoo last saw me and I am not sure if he remembered me this time. He was Dudley now and seemed happy nosing around the lawn with his buddy Buzz. When I went to the door, the two stared at me through the screen. They had both grown so big. We realized Mamoo was 10 years old.
When I had to give him up I thought maybe something good would come of it. In the checks and balances of the universe, I would surely be compensated for his loss. I'm not sure that happened exactly, but we've moved on. I'm getting a new dog soon.
We didn't stay long before getting back on the road. We always take the scenic route, going past Echo Lake in Ludlow, on through Bridgewater Corners, Woodstock, Silver Lake in Barnard. Joan and Jane will often stop at my house and rest for a bit. Today, we filled a baby pool for the dogs and sat inside with the fans on us until the power went out. We ate subs ordered at the local convenience store and played with my six-month-old niece, who giggled at the puppies. We talked about Alfie's big day.
Next year we will go to Keene again. I love the trip -- all the ins and outs and scenic byways. I love the promise and the potential; the possibility that something big may happen, the revelation that nothing has to. As in life, the journey is enough.
Pug Find
Not only do pug owners "stalk" other pug owners and their pugs, but we also enthusiastically roam stores, flea markets, and yard sales for pug paraphernalia. Again, I'm sure this is true for many other breeds as well, but my experience is with pugs and let's just say, there is a junkie's pleasure in scoring a new item.
Today, I found in TJ Maxx a pair of two cute white ceramic pug heads. "What do you do with those?" my Mom, who was shopping with me, asked.
I have to admit this question hadn't entered my head. I was just so happy to have surveyed the pieces and noted that they indeed could be deemed pugs and not some distorted bulldog like many store-found replicas suggest.
"Umm, hang them up," I said, thinking what does she mean what do I do with them. They're pugs, I'll buy them, that's what I'll do.
And, that's what I did and now that they're home I'll have to figure out what to do with them. They sure are cute, though.
Pug Stalkers
Photo by Diane Fiore
I'm not sure if it's true for all breeds, but I would venture to guess that pug people "stalk" each other with more gusto than any others. I'm referring to that tendency to trail another car that has a pug license plate or bummer sticker, to pull over on the side of the road to jump out and accost a couple walking a pug, to roll the window down in a speeding car and yell through the window of another vehicle "I have one, too!"
Pug people are admittedly "pug crazy" and we take great pride in it. In some ways we're all one big happy family and well, let's just say there's something contagious about these big-eyed, flat-faced, curly-tailed, alien little creatures. Our enthusiasm is infectious!
And, even if it doesn't make everyone we know run out in search of a pug to adopt themselves, it gets them thinking about the breed. I had one friend tell me after a conversation about my pugs, that he couldn't stop dreaming about them. Another, emailed me joking that if I kept writing these posts she might just have to get a pug herself and today, a friend in my writers' workshop emailed me this photo with the note "Saw this license plate and thought of you."
Hmm, she did more than see the license plate and think of me, she whipped out her camera or cellphone and snapped this picture! Seems I've created another pug stalker!
Friday Night in Good Ole VT
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Living in rural Vermont you have to take your excitement where you can find it and tonight the excitement for many pet lovers in the central part of the state was the grand opening of the new Petco in Berlin. Tonight my friend Joan and I each drove 30 miles from our perspective homes to meet our friend, Jane, and her pug, Sadie, to check out the place and maybe get some grand opening deals. Joan was looking for dog food and formula for her litter of new puppies; Jane, a raised food stand to make life easier for her pug, Sadie, diagnosed with a tumor, and me, checking out the scene for any goodies for my potential new pug, Waffles, (should Joan ever see to let me adopt her.)
The store was hopping with both humans and dogs and we each found something to take home. It's funny what an excursion it became. We roamed each aisle, reading the labels on all the dog foods, discussing the layout, perusing the photographs of the professional pet photographer who was on hand. It felt akin to exploring a museum.
The most enjoyable part for me was witnessing Joan, Jane and Sadie's fun. Sadie rode in a shopping cart and genuinely seemed happy to be out and about. Jane only recently adopted her and was told she had lived with only one other owner her whole life. We often play the guessing game with the rescue dogs, wondering what their lives were like before they found their homes among us. Tonight we wondered if Sadie had shopped other Petcos with her former owner -- she seemed right at home. It is good to see her enjoying the time she has and in turn, this makes Jane beam.
When I first met Joan 14 years ago, I was struck by her relationship with her pugs. Her affection for them seemed almost childlike. Today, I also happened to take my pug, Alfie, to the vet. Two little toe-headed girls were there to pick up their own pug and when they saw Alfie, the youngest dropped to the ground squealing with glee. Joan still acts like that sometimes when she sees animals. At Petco tonight, the birds entranced her. She leaned as close to the glass as she could and murmured to them.
"Look," she too squealed, "that one has its head all the way back, look at him." She stopped at each animal display with the same delight. She cooed at a chinchilla nibbling on some twigs for so long that he darted back in his blue, ball-shaped house to hide. She exclaimed over the spooning ferrets. It reminded me of taking my four-year-old niece to the zoo or a circus.
Admittedly, there is a flip side to the Petco opening. Right down the street is a small independent pet store whose parking lot was empty this evening. I suggested stopping back and buying something as we went by, but we forgot. But that's another story of rural life, tonight's tale was a diversion -- a chance to forgo the boredom of yet again doing the same thing on another Friday night, a chance to ward off the sadness of Sadie's impending fate, a chance to revel in something that is really quite ordinary -- to make our own fun where we could find it, to spend time amidst friends in rural Vermont.
Bad Girls and Princesses
One of my favorite movies as a little girl was Disney's Cinderella. I loved the scene where the field mice helped transform Cinderella's rags into a beautiful gown for the ball.
I decided this week to create a new collage, featuring my pug, Alfie, and me, to use as the header of my long-anticipated web site. I have a specific idea in mind, which involves us dressing in Renaissance-inspired gowns.
Although it was relatively simple for me to find a costume online, discovering a perfect fit for Alfie was not so easy. I Googled dog costumes and either found clothes that were too pricey or too small or that would take too long to make (now that I have decided to go forward with the site, I can't wait weeks for the artwork to be complete). I had almost given up hope when I remembered that two years ago I had purchased a pug-specific dress at the Green Mountain Pug Social. The seamstress took into account the pug's rather unique (read chubby) physique and sized accordingly.
I emailed Green Mountain Pug Rescue and asked if they remembered the seamstress's name. They connected me with Debra Bauriedl Thesing of PugPossessed (www.pugpossessed.blogspot.com). Debra also sells her work on Etsy at http://www.etsy.com/shop/pugpossessed. Debra quickly became Alfie's fairy godmother.
I contacted her on Friday. She answered me right away and asked me to send Alfie's measurements. I sent them on Sunday, she drew up a sketch and presented me with color and material options on Monday and began sewing on Tuesday. She mailed the outfit, which cost only $22 plus shipping in the mail by Wednesday lunchtime (some of the options online ran as high as $150 and took weeks to make. Bibbidi Bobbidi-Boo!
While Alfie was getting ready to transform into a princess, the other little girl in my life, Waffles, was getting into some trouble. I still haven't worked out the details of adopting this black mischief-maker, whom my friend Joan calls the Demon Dog. So, she presently resides at Joans' and well, to put it mildly, things have been a little bit busy at Joan's house lately. Joan's pug, Griffles, recently had a litter of five pug puppies, which are keeping both pug and human Mommy very busy. This means there is plenty of time for the other pugs to get into trouble -- the perfect opportunity for the Demon Dog to do her work.
A recipe for trouble, certainly! Add, to this mix the fact that well, Waffles is in season, meaning she needs to be kept away from any unneutered males if she doesn't want to risk becoming a Momma herself. So while Alfie was busy becoming Cinderella, Joan had Waffles locked away in a tower like Rapuznel and guess what? The prince found a way to climb her hair! It seems like my potential baby could have babies of her own. Not an option any of us want, so a spaying is at hand. Certainly, not a plot for a Disney movie.
I'm hoping that if Waffles ever does join my family, Alfie will be a good influence on her and not vice versa. It seems that while Alfie may be a princess, Waffles is a wee bit of a bad girl. Hmm, it may be I have the makings for a fairytale after all.
Debra's Sketch for Alfie's new dress.