Take Time to Smell the Flowers…

…and look at the rest of these amazing portraits of our canine friends. Unfortunately, no pugs are in this selection, but, rest assured, I will be scouring the net to find some.

Now It’s Personal

In Happier Days

I never imagined I’d be writing about Charlie Sheen, especially here at Confessions of a Pugophile. But when pugs are involved, I must speak out.

First, let me say, before he started mistreating pugs, I wasn’t unsympathetic to Mr. Sheen. As the star of the number one TV sitcom, someone used to being beloved and by a multitude of fans and indulged by his entourage, it must be hard going to find yourself under attack, distained by your co-workers and a laughingstock to the media and the public at large. Yes, he brought it upon himself. But remember the last time you goofed up big time? It still hurt, didn’t it, even if you were the one at fault.

Besides, Sheen was mostly hurting himself (and, yes, the women who had the misfortune to marry and/or date him). I’m familiar with the mentality. “Hey, I come to work each day and make everybody a ton of money. I can do what I want.” So when he’s fired from his show, he’s stunned–and goes on the attack. When this brings him a ton of publicity, he continues. Because even negative publicity is better than none, right?

Which all leads up to today’s news. It seems that after Sheen split with wife #2, Denise Richards, she allowed him to keep her two pugs. Supposedly, she wanted her kids to feel comfortable when they visited their dad. Except as Sheen dive-bombed, he stopped taking care of the animals in his care. By the time Richards retrieved the pugs, it was too late for one of them, who died shortly after of malnutrition. Died. As in dead. No longer living.

Now Sheen is launching an attack, via Twitter, to get the other pug back. Even though the dog doesn’t belong to him. Even though his lack of care killed the other one. He’s resorted to calling his ex a bunch of expletives because she won’t budge. I don’t recall him putting up such a fuss when his kids were removed from his care.

Charlie Sheen, give it up. Your career is over. It is only a matter of time before you self destruct. Leave the pug alone.

Read more about the fiasco here.

One-of-a-Kind Centerpiece

Some people have a vase of flowers or a boring old bowl of fruit as their table’s centerpiece. Not us! We have OC to brighten up our meals.

Pablo Is Learning ASL

For the past month I’ve been taking a continuing-ed class in American Sign Language (ASL). I’m writing a book on the subject for a client so I thought it would be useful if I could learn some basic signs. And it has helped. Enormously. If nothing else, I’ve discovered how hard it is to contort my hands into different shapes, not to mention memorizing the manual alphabet and all the many signs.

To reinforce what I’m learning, I decided to teach Pablo some simple signs. BTW, teaching dogs ASL is not unheard of. A few breeds, such as Dalmatians, are genetically prone to deafness and older dogs can become deaf as well. The first sign I taught Pablo is SIT, which I fingerspell. SIT has its own sign, of course, but fingerspelling seems to work better with Pablo.

After a few tries, Pablo caught on–and here’s the amazing part, he’ll sit even when I don’t have food! He doesn’t do that when I give him the verbal command–just looks at me as if he’s thinking “What’s in it for me?” I wish I had known ASL when he was a pup. Think of all the commands he would know by now!

 

Rub-a-Dub Pug*

As Sunday was the Vernal Equinox, it seemed only fitting to give Pablo his first spring cleaning of the season. In other words, a B-A-T-H. His last one took place in late December, I’m embarrassed to admit, so he was waaay overdue.

Pablo takes to heart the advice Queen Victoria supposedly gave her daughter on her wedding night. “Lie back and think of England.” Pablo endures a bath by standing still and dreaming of roast beef.

After his bath, it’s a long-standing tradition for me to chase after him with a towel as I attempt to dry him off. This part he loves, as his favorite game is to be chased. Here’s a slideshow of the whole experience.

* Thanks to K for today’s title!

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Erin Go Pug!

Happy Saint Puggy’s Day to all you pug lovers. Pablo doesn’t have a green outfit (not his color), but this little puggy has wrapped itself in Ireland’s national color.

OC, OC, Burning Bright

In what distant deeps or skies burnt the fire of thine eyes?

Dominionist, Humanist, or Protectionist?

Which type of pet owners are you? According to Indiana University sociologist David Blouin, pet owners fall into one of the three above categories. A dominionist views animals “as an appendage to the family, a useful helper ranking below humans that is beloved but, ultimately, replaceable.” My paternal grandmother was this sort. For her, animals were animals and she wasn’t overly sentimental about them. She kept a cat to keep her house rodent-free, not because she liked their company. When a pet outlived its usefulness it was put down. No tears.

My maternal grandmother, however, fit firmly in the next category. A humanist treats his or her pet as a child, pampering the animal and even allowing it into the family bed. Sound familiar to readers of this blog? Guilty as charged.

A protectionist is an animal advocate, doing what he or she sees as best for the animal. Protectionists often have strong views about how animals should be treated. A member of PETA would be an example of a protectionist.

According to a New York Times article on the subject, problems can arise when families are made up of members with different ideologies. My grandmother’s matter-of-fact view about animals was distressing to me at times, especially when I once visited her to walk the dog and found her missing. She was my father’s dog and not long after he died, my grandmother had her put down. A perfectly healthy dog. However, I’m not perfect. I lean too far the other way. When it was time for my last three cats to go on their final journey, I waited too long, unable to do what was best for them. So I’m a humanist striving to be a protectionist. What are you?

Gag Me with a Kinkade

Yesterday’s Sheldon comic was brillant and resonated with me for two reasons. On a long ago Christmas, Pablo got into E’s Christmas stocking and devoured all her chocolate candy of which there was a bunch. And it was the expensive kind too, which means there’s more pure chocolate in it. As I didn’t have a Thomas Kinkade painting handy, I had to rush out to a 24-hour pharmacy to buy activated charcoal, leaving my guests waiting for the Christmas dinner drying out in the oven. (I always keep a bottle of activated charcoal in the house post-incident. I advise anyone who owns a dog to do the same. Check out this link on how and when to administer it.)

Reason two? In my previous job, one of my responsibilities was to work with the company that licenses Thomas Kinkade’s work. They were very nice people, but I did spend an inordinate amount of time browsing through his images to select appropriate ones for the books my company published. The experience was like eating very sweet candy. A little is okay, then you want to, well, barf.

I apologize to all the Thomas Kinkade fans out there! For those of you unfamiliar with his work, here’s a sample.

Check out more of Dave Kellett’s Sheldon comic strips (today’s again features Oso the pug) here.

The Good, the Bad and the Pugly