Sunday, December 2, 2012
The Moral of Thanksgiving
OK, so last week we had this holiday called Thanksgiving, I'm sure you have all heard of it. I must admit the symbol of a turkey is far more attractive to me than the fat man in the red suite, but that's a different story. That turkey never complains about being eaten, I know, I know he's already dead and can't complain but still you would at least think he would be standing in the pen screaming "Take Turkey Todd, he is a lot fatter than me!!!" But he takes it like a man and just stands there until they scoop him up. Yep, I have respect for that Thanksgiving turkey I ate this year.
Turns out the fat man in the red suite doesn't like it when cute baby pugs, OK I admit I exaggerated, big fat pugs with attitude, there I confessed, you happy? Anyway this fat man get's a wee bit upset when you grab his beard and make a run for it, it went quite some distance before I lost control of my end and it snapped back on his face. Damn elastic! I really liked that beard and wanted it for my very own. Now I am in trouble with Mom again for trying to steal and she says she isn't taking me to PetSmart to see Santa this year. She is in there grumbling about how she hopes her next pug is fit to take in public without some major embarrassment or theft going on.
She has been a little upset since I got into the carton of whippy and ate all of it, then did the pugtona until I had time to lick it off my face before she could catch me and wash that beautiful nectar off, I didn't want to miss one single lick of that whippy! Oh yeah, oh yeah! I won, I won! Advise to all pug Mom's out there, don't put the whippy on the bottom shelf of the fridge. WE can reach it and WE can open it. Again I was accused of theft.
But I digress, back to Thanksgiving. We had a bunch of people in our house. At first I was excited to see all those purses flowing in the door, I figured I could rifle through all of them before being caught because everyone was busy. But Mom outsmarted me, she had them all put in a bedroom and the door shut. No she din't! Yes, she did! Of course she also announces that I am a thief and will steal something if they aren't behind closed doors. Where is this woman's head,? I could have had her a nice stash by the time they all left, all safe and sound under the blanket in my crate. She told me later it was more than a little embarrassing to have to explain what the noise was as I was body slamming that door to get in the room.
Then there were the feet. I suggest if you don't want a pug to sniff your toes then leave your damn shoes on! I do think the one guy, the really ugly one learned his lesson when he kicked out at me over it and Mom literally had a "Come to Jesus" meeting with him in front of everyone.
And people, people, people if you don't want the pug following you outside the door every time it is opened then don't open the stupid thing. I WILL watch for my chance and I WILL take it. I'm pretty sure all PetSmart stores teach a "How To Exit Any Door With a Pug In The Room" class. Sign up.
As far as circling the table while your eating, please remember I could have been rude and jumped up on you barking, but I didn't. I was simply protecting Mom's floor and your health. I looked at you people and some of you didn't have the look of intelligence emanating from you, how could I be sure you didn't try to eat the silverware too and need CPR or something? Some of you had mouths far bigger than mine so I was pretty sure half of anything you ate was going to end up on Mom's clean floor, I was simply on guard for any stray food that hit the floor. Otherwise Mom is going to bring out that damn mop and I really hate that mop. I was hoping Mom would snap and just kill the screaming babies, oh my God, I can't even describe the screaming babies! Now the quite babies were Ok, except I did have a little problem telling the difference between chubby Evan and the turkey, it was only the movement of his head that kept it straight for me.
I did rather like it when Mom got tired of the "she's so ugly she's cute", "she looks like she ran into a car", "how do they breath", "they don't even look like a real dog, more like a monkey", etc. comments and told everyone I was her baby and she thought I was beautiful, just like they mistakenly think their kids are beautiful. She told them that one more word relating to my looks would cause her to have to start taking pot shots at their kids and she would tell them exactly what she thought of the way their kids look. Since Mom isn't a kid person this could have ended really nasty. But they all got the not so subtle hint Mom gave and stopped with the comments.
Now old Turdley was in Mom's room behind closed doors when all this was going on because he has a touch of Hannibal Lector in him and can't be trusted not to rip out an ankle, he would do more but unfortunately ankles are all he can reach. I really liked how Mom "delayed" the guy at the door that had been rudest about me the whole day, just long enough for My Boy to go open her bedroom door and release the beast aka The Chupacabra. Who, as expected, made a beeline for the ankles. I doubt he comes back to visit anytime soon.
So the moral of Thanksgiving is:
You just don't mess with my Mom over her babies.