Otto Heals A Heart

Hi! This is Otto AKA Otto-mation-station. He is *almost* nine weeks old and preparing for the most exciting trip of his life! In two weeks, he will be traveling all the way to California where he will meet his forever family and his phenomenal Pug Mommie, Lori.

Lori is a dear and personal friend of mine who has been to hell and back,fighting with courage and strength that I can't even fathom. She resigned from a "religion" in which she could no longer morally or ethically be a part of and in doing so, this "religion" ordered her adult children to cease all contact with her.

It is hard to understand that concept taking place in America in 2011 but it happened. She has fought to all lengths to get her kids back and strides have been made. Her story has been in the media and is well documented. Last month her son was involved in a serious motorcycle accident in which he required major surgery and she she was not allowed to see him. She did eventually get to see him very briefly after a lot of preserverance.

As you can imagine, her life since Feb. has been wrought will anguish and heartbreak. Not having daily contact with her children has torn her heart to pieces.

After watching Otto grow from a newborn puppy to a striking mini companion has already filled Lori with immense joy. Just very very recently, she decided he was the flat faced one for her! As his homecoming date arrives,I can see the renewed joy and optimism return to her voice and smile. Pugs can heal hearts and Otto is healing hers! Hug your pug!!

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The Antithesis of Relaxation

Take in this mental picture. I'm in my most comfortable and well worn aeropostle pajama pants and a junky yet incredibly soft long sleeved t shirt snuggled into my double papasan chair with the pugnation snuggling while my beautiful daughter eats her breakfast in the recliner beside me.

Look,we aren't formal people. Actually, it may surprise some of you that we use utensils at all....shoot,there are days I break out the Chinet for those ultra fancy days we dine on Little Ceasars PIZZA PIZZA!

As  the fabulous Miss Sophie Anabelle munches on her nutricious meal, I issue not one--but two warnings to keep her piggies OFF the end table. I had a ginormous honkin' wild cherry Pepsi sitting there in a meek attempt to wake the hell up.

There we are, quietly snuggled in,watching Annie in our super warm house. Say it with me, AHHHHH!

My eyes fluttered,pugs snored softly and I started to doze myself. All of the sudden, something insanely cold started to drip down my face and run down my back. I was positive I didn't pee myself but that was the only fact I was sure of.

In the ruckus, a splash of Cherry Pepsi stayed the pug alliance and sent them into a snorting tizzy of batshit proportions. They clawed me in an attempt to escape the impending tsunami. It was pugs shenanigans.

I bolted up and outta the chair,seriously, you've never seen my carb lovin' ass move in such speed of grace. The pugs and I are standing in the center of the living room trying to piece together what the hell happened and Sophie is sitting completely still,hands folded in her lap and her little pink piggies directly in shot of where my beloved beverage WAS-OY!

Needless to say, the pug nation is scarred for life by the tomfoolery that took place today. I'm considering a bake sale to assist in shouldering their costs of the immediate Dog Whisperer visit.

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Puggie Trouble!

Do you see the look I'm getting here? You know the look, its quite similar to the look of over tired children at bedtime. You may wonder what I could have possibly done to deserve such a look of utter disgust and betrayal.....I shall divulge my dirty little secrets.

Secret #1 I had taco bell without them.  I have no shame whatsoever in admitting my devotion and addiction to Taco Bell. Oh lawd, I could easily consume this high fat,carb filled hug from Jesus daily,multiple times a day. This day I had consumed a tasty treat and in true Mimi fashion, dropped the shiz down the from of my shirt. I reeked of this aroma filled yumminess and did not think to bring home a trunk full of cheap Mexican food for them. *snort* call Animal Cops!

Secret #2 While purchasing dog food for the flat faced nation, I pet another pug in passing. A pug which had not yet had its ass sniffed for their personal inspection and approval. Now y'all know I love my pugs more than life but I have yet to be compelled to roam on my hands and need in search of a.curly tailed pug ass in which to sniff. Sorry fella's, not gonna happen.

Suffice it to say, my arrival home was met with excitement,kisses,reserved sniffing and then....the mean mug. The mean pug mug. Sheesh.

They backed a foot away cautiously in unison. Now let me be the first to let you know that they never do anything in unison unless it involves conspiring to lay a guilt trip on Mommie. They allowed their mass of wrinkles to relax, sighed heavily and looked at me with the sadness and anguish that only this type of abuse can produce.

I'll admit, I felt awful. Because of this ultimate betrayal and my guilt, I opened the fridge, got a few ham slices and cheese and wrapped little treats made out of priceless people food and snuggled each one as he/she scarred down their bribes. Wouldn't ya know, their wrinkles bounced back and grins spread across their faces and I *think* I learned my lesson! Oy!

psst:Otto loves Taco Bell too!

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*sigh*

I read this on a friend's wall earlier this morning and knew I wanted to share this heart-warming true story with all of you. ♥ Our 14-year-old dog Abbey died last month. The day after she passed away my 4-year-old daughter Meredith was crying and talking about how much she missed Abbey. She asked if we could write a letter to God so that when Abbey got to heaven, God would recognize her. I told her that I thought we could so, and she dictated these words: Dear God, Will you please take care of my dog? She died yesterday and is with you in heaven. I miss her very much. I am happy that you let me have her as my dog even though she got sick. I hope you will play with her. She likes to swim and play with balls. I am sending a picture of her so when you see her you will know that she is my dog. I really miss her. Love, Meredith We put the letter in an envelope with a picture of Abbey and Meredith and addressed it to God/Heaven. We put our return address on it. Then Meredith pasted several stamps on the front of the envelope because she said it would take lots of stamps to get the letter all the way to heaven. That afternoon she dropped it into the letter box at the post office. A few days later, she asked if God had gotten the letter yet. I told her that I thought He had. Yesterday, there was a package wrapped in gold paper on our front porch addressed, 'To Meredith' in an unfamiliar hand. Meredith opened it. Inside was a book by Mr. Rogers called, 'When a Pet Dies.' Taped to the inside front cover was the letter we had written to God in its opened envelope. On the opposite page was the picture of Abbey & Meredith and this note: Dear Meredith, Abbey arrived safely in heaven. Having the picture was a big help and I recognized her right away. Abbey isn't sick anymore. Her spirit is here with me just like it stays in your heart. Abbey loved being your dog. Since we don't need our bodies in heaven, I don't have any pockets to keep your picture in so I am sending it back to you in this little book for you to keep and have something to remember Abbey by. Thank you for the beautiful letter and thank your mother for helping you write it and sending it to me. What a wonderful mother you have. I picked her especially for you. I send my blessings every day and remember that I love you very much. By the way, I'm easy to find. I am wherever there is love. Love, God Don't say you're too busy to forward this. Just go ahead and do it

Oy!

It all started quite innocently. Sophie Anabelle crawled into my snuggie covered lap and held my face so gently in her little bitty hands and asked, "Can I have an apple Momma?" I kissed her little pink lips and off she scurried into the kitchen to acquire the apple and start eating it! Less than five minutes later, she comes in and says, "The door is open and the pugs are outside!" I'm like, "Uh, what? Huh? What's that you say? Door? Open? Pugs outside? WHA???" Let me insert a little back story here. When the kids eat apples, I allow them to toss them out into the backyard for birds, raccoons, what the hell ever wants to scurry through my yard for a mid day snack. Before you call PETA, I am fairly sure that no wild animal ever bit the big one from an apple core. It has yet to turn a rodents intestines into mush as a result of one bite. Needless to say, Miss Fashionista took a total of three bites of this abnormally large apple and decided her starvation had subsided and she was ready to discard her core....or whole damn apple...into the yard. In doing so, she didn't fully shut the door and my flat faced little detectives picked up on this fact. Of course, rambunctious Miss Tru found a way to shove her smooshed face through the crack, push the door open and allow them total and unsupervised freedom. Now when I tell you they went batshit crazy, that is exactly what I mean. These curly tailed mo fo's ran around like they had just been given the gift of mobility. They went at a speed that made cheetahs wince! Did they listen to my calls for them to return to Parrow land? No they did not! Did they listen to my more urgent calls for their immediate return? No they did not! Did they in any way, shape or form acknowledge my arm flailing, running or panicked state? NO THEY DID NOT! Do you know what they did notice? A mutha effin' squirrel. Grilled Cheesus! Trudy is chasing this poor squirrel like her life depends on it. Cullen is chasing Trudy like she has a T Bone tied to her back and Bella is chasing them both because she feels a need to be a part of this ragtag group of misfits. What is Joey doing? Oh, Joey is backing his ass up to the deck step so he can drop a deuce. Oy! Finally, I clap them into submission and three of the four crazies are in the house. Not Trudy, she has decided to try to become the first pug lumberjack and chew a tree! Gah! Really? We all come in, I give the standard door opening and closing safety lecture to the four year old lady and the pugs are in TIME OUT! Otto, the almost nine week old wonder pug is glaring at them from the kitchen as if to say, "Ha! I'm the youngest and I'm not in trouble sucka's!" So....who wants to pug sit??

Have you hugged your pug today?

Do you know what a pug person is? Pug people are slightly neurotic in a love filled charming kind of way. We adore flat faces, snorting and bug eyes and live for the warm snuggles that only a curly tailed behind can provide!! My hand to the puggie Gods, once you own and love a pug, you will never regret it and it will become your breed of choice!!

This is my Cullen licking Tru's ear...or touching her brain, not entirely sure which! Seriously, can you look at this photo and not say, "Awww!" I can't. Pugs bring out the very best in people, the minute anyone spots your flat faced companion, they immediately smile and inquire about my miniature and slightly obese bestie. My oldest son has adopted Joey as his "wing man". Wherever Pacey is, Joey is on his heels, snorting happily to make sure his boy is well taken care of at all times!

These little fella's make the perfect companions, they love unconditionally and bring joy to the most cluster fuckish of days!! It is my DREAM to own and operate a non profit pug rescue some day! My kidlets are totally on board with this idea, my husband is not! LOL! He loves our dogs, even when they chew up his belongings, make an oopsie on the floor or scream (not bark) but if it were his choice, we would be roaming amongst Great Dane's and any k9 that can produce feces larger than small animals. Me? Not so much! On the subject of screaming....not ALL pugs do not this. Actually, Cullen is our only SCREAMER. It isn't that he can't bark, he is totally capable but when you don't immediately bend to his will, he will break out the big guns. It isn't manly, its a high pitched cry for help. Can you believe that he can scream, run and snort all in the same breath. Multi talented really. Trudy Loo, AKA Tru is our disaster. She is the daughter of our Cullen and Bella! She is a typical teen in all ways. She chews up everything, EVERYTHING! Her favorite thing to do is to sneak into her best friend Sophie's room, commandeer her squinkies and eat them. The problem with eating microscopic pieces of rubber is that they are so small in size that chewing is not necessary so if she so desires, she can just swallow and...um....dump them later. If I have said it once, I've said it a million times, "MOMMIE DOES NOT DIG SQUINKIES OUT OF PUG SHADOOBI!" This is the very lady like Tru in a stunt I like to call, "Look Ma, NO HANDS!"

Bella and Cullen had a second litter of mini flat faces and Dexter and Otto completely stole our hearts! Dexter was my main man, waddling his way into my heart and a half step behind me at all times. He found his forever home with an amazing lady that treasures his every waking move!! She is now a "pug person"! The fabulous Dexter!

And this is Otto, he couldn't snuggle and give more puppy kisses if he tried!! I really cannot rave enough about this breed, their spunky personalities or the happiness and kindness they bring out in people. And, they like to sleep!! Just ask Otto!! "Shhh! I'm trying to sleep!"

Love a Pug!!

Baby fever? I think not!

There are days that I pass a sleeping baby in a stroller in Target and it takes every ounce of self control not to utilize my most super sleuth skills and silently steal that baby and snuggle him / her endlessly. I love babies, even at their crankiest. I love their chubby little legs, their drool covered chins and their toothless grins. Just seeing a baby sends my blackened heart into Mother Teresa mode. I get weepy and sentimental, my babies are becoming more and more like miniature adults as each day passes. Today was not one of those days. After the day I had with the lunatic trio, it is safe to say my new passion in life is creating birth control posters to plaster the universe with. The morning was actually off to a pretty smooth start and after dropping off the boys at school, the early afternoon followed the same pattern. Upon picking Thing One and Thing Two up at school, the ruckus began. It was subtle at first, so subtle that it was almost undetected by the naked eye. My eye is much too wise for that tomfoolery but a full blown crisis was averted. It was averted until we got home, consumed dinner at a speed that would make most gazelles green with envy and got started on 3rd grade homework! Spelling to be exact. I must credit Sophie and Pacey, my resident mini thugs. Sophie watched Annie and played silently and Pacey perfected the art of Yu-gi-oh card worship without incident. Ashton apparently had some inner spelling rage he needed to work out verbally and I was the lucky Mommie in charge! Cheese and Rice! Ashton is incredibly smart. I'm not just saying that because I am his mom and I only produce perfect and mini geniuses. I'm saying this because it is true. He is eight years old, a year ahead in school, in advanced classes and still flying through in a nonsensical way. I have no doubt in my mind that he could outscore me on any subject on any given day. No joke. I'm more than willing to account for my lack of knowledge in certain subjects because I am confident that I make up for that deficit with my smart ass charm and undeniable cuteness. That is my hope at least. Neither my cuteness or wise ass abilities helped me this evening though. Ashton was wound for sound! Not only was he in no mood to accomplish his spelling endeavors but he was hell bent on Mommie inevitably losing her shit and flailing objects around the room willy nilly. Of course Miss Sophie Anabelle used all the paper making letters to all of her friends and shoving them in the mailbox so there was no available paper on which he could do his homework. He is well aware of his sisters lust for writing and paper wasting and he is also aware that I purchased a ton of extra supplies for him to keep and bring home as needed and he chose not to. Pacey had ONE single sheet of paper he offered his brother in a rare act of good faith. Ashton, having inherited some of his mothers wise ass abilities, purposely wrote the wrong words and then over erased in a failed act of defiance and erased a dayum hole in the dayum piece of paper. Duuuuuuude. When I tell ya'll that I saw red, I flippin' saw red. RED. R E D! I envisioned Tyson chewing off Holyfield's ear. Not that I'm an ear biter, I'm not a biter at all but I can only imagine that Tyson felt at least slightly less enraged afterward. At this time I got my game plan in action. I figured my friends love me enough to do all that they could to contact Jesse Jackson, Al Sharpton and Don King. Typically, Nancy Grace is my go to gal but with her Dancing shenanigans and twins, she might be slightly preoccupied. Needless to say, I feel these three gentleman can raise enough cash flow to bust me outta the clink IF and WHEN I finally react to the constant jackassery that I endure daily. I won't bore ya with the gory details but paper was purchased after a panic filled waiting period on his behalf thinking he was going to have to take a zero for this homework assignment and he did complete it effortlessly in less than fifteen minutes when presented the chance to do so with new paper. The point of this post is that I want a trophy. I want a trophy, a big ass mountain dew and taco bell. I want my trophy pink and bedazzled and fabulous and I want it engraved in fancy girly writing to say, "I came ----><---- THIS CLOSE to being on Dateline and I resisted the urge!" Make it happen.