It's Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas....

Well, I only got twenty minutes of cuddling time with Mommy on the couch last night before she fell asleep. It's just as well considering she was sitting cross legged with pillows and blankets tucked all around her. There was no flat, wide and level surface for me to comfortably stretch across for sleeping.

Last night, Mommy was too busy cleaning. She said it was so the apartment looked really nice and was clean for us to put up Christmas decorations. I don't mind it when she cleans because then I get to chase the swiffer duster that she never lets me play with. Nevermind. After thinking this through, I realized I hate it when she cleans, because I hate being yelled "NO" at when I jump up and try to grab the swiffer duster not to mention I hate that noisy vacuum!

Anyway, after she cleaned up the whole apartment she decided it was a good time to trash the kitchen. But, it was worth it-she was made Christmas cookies! She even let me eat some of the dough that fell on the floor.

It was a good evening, but a busy one. We listened to Christmas music and ate a few Christmas cookies. The icing for the cookies wasn't very good though because Mommy ran out of powdered sugar.

Anyway, I am really looking forward to tonight, because we are going to put up our Christmas tree! I can't wait to see what my parents have planned!

Mommy seems to enjoy it when I get annoyed so she puts me in situations where I have to work really hard-which is also annoying. It all started when I walked up to her with a jersey and asked her to play tug.

Instead, this is what she did to me:





I worked really hard to pull this thing off of me.


Instead, I managed to wiggle it on me just perfectly.



I don't think it looks to bad...except it is awfully big...Can I get this in a size small?


Does this make my glutes look big?

When I walked, I would somehow find myself balled up underneath it.

It made it very difficult to walk.



It even swallowed my head!

It took a long time of twirling around in circles and doing somersaults on the floor before I managed to get out of this thing.

Once I managed to get that thing off of me, I stomped all over it, pounding it into the floor.

That ought to teach it a lesson!

Food, Food, Food, Food, Food, Food,

Well, I knew something was up Tuesday night when I watched my parents pack up their suitcases. I really knew something was going on when they got up and hour and a half before they normally do the next day. I admit, I was a bit nervous and scared about what was going to happen. I didn't know if they were leaving me or not.

But, they didn't! And, it's a good thing too! Wanna know why? I've gotten so much food today-so much food! I'm stuffed to the rim, but I certainly could eat more. We went to visit family in northern Indiana. I got so much attention and after Mommy decided it was OK to let me off the leash, I was slipped morsels of food from all the foreign exchange students and my Aunt and little cousins. It was GREAT! I even got dinner, although Mommy made it clear to me that it was only to keep a "schedule" and, she didn't give me very much.

I hope you all are enjoying your Thanksgiving holiday too and that you get lots and lots of food!

And, here I am, cuddling on the couch, staying warm from the snow in a food-induced coma:

Daddy's Home

Bark, bark, woof, woof, whimper, whine, grrr, bark, bark, aaarrroooorooorooo, bark, bark, woof, woof, whimper, whimper, whine, arooroorooorooorooooooo.

That's what I sounded like last Friday night when Daddy came home! Mommy and I were very excited to see him again. You see, he was gone pretty much all week last week and then the weekend before Mommy didn't see him and the weekend before that he was out-of-town too.

So when Daddy came home that evening I couldn't keep quiet nor could I sit still. We are thankful he is home.


However, I don't mind it when he is gone because then I really get to play with Mommy's head. For instance, I'll wake her up in the middle of the night by growling at the bedroom door. This makes her think there is something or someone in the house so she'll ask "What is it?." This is my cue to start jumping all over the bed violently barking in the direction of the "intruder."
Once I sense her heart rate is up and am certain she won't be comfortable to fall asleep anytime soon, I will dig my way back under the covers.


Sometimes, I start early. As soon as she shuts off the light and the TV, I'll come pounding my way up from the covers and start barking at the door. I think the last time she caught on to my antics and told me to be quiet and then shoved me back under the covers. Whatever.



I like to be obnoxious sometimes, but I still love her. I know she is lonely when Daddy is away, so instead of sleeping at the foot of the bed or on her body pillow, I'll cuddle up to her by stretching my paws over her shoulder and then I'll nuzzle my head in the neck/shoulder. When she rolls over to get space, I'll climb over her stomach and do the same on the other side. I love her obnoxiously. ;)

P.S: I am sorry that the photos today do not reflect the content of this post. This would be Mother's fault as she has neglected to take her daily quota of photos of me. I should hire new paparazzi. Now, I know how Lindsay Lohan and Paris feel when they don't make the front cover of the tabloids.

The Nail Grinder

I just want to say thanks to whoever it was that recommended a nail grinder. Daddy found his new favorite tool. I have to say it's much nicer than the guillotine Mommy always uses on my nails. But, I still don't like it.


Daddy brought it out and I thought it was a neat looking contraption until he turned it on. Note for the other dogs out there-don't sniff it when it's on. It's not a toy and it's not as cool as it may seem. But, I was stupid and fell for the human's tricks.
They brought it out, let me see it and touch it and sniff it. I didn't think it was all that threatening, but I seriously didn't know this was for me. Otherwise, I totally wouldn't have thought it was interesting.

Then Daddy tucks me under his arm and brings this thing up to my nail and IT'S ANOTHER TORTURE DEVICE!

I try to wriggle away but he held me there. Oh, how I should have known!

You see, this thing looks all innocent, but when it touches your nail it makes this horrible grinding noise that tickles your teeth! And the smell! Oh, that smell-I don't know how to describe it. It's gross. And then, to top that off, you can see the little dust particles of my nail! So gross!

I do not like this thing one bit. It's like my parents are constantly coming up with ways to torture me! First the nail clippers, then the laundry basket, then food, now this, what's next?!

Daddy is a persistent man and as stubborn as I am, I just not strong enough to pull away. He pulled me back in and started grinding away. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

OK FINE. I guess it's not that bad. In comparison I mean. I guess I don't really feel it. And they're not going to cut my quick. It's a lot less terrifying then the nail clippers. But, I still don't like it. And, only one paw at a time. Then I get a treat. OK?! Just don't tell my parents. You can tell them the treat part and only one paw at a time, but not about the part of me not minding it.

Food-Just Give it To Me!

OK OK, so the rule is: NO HUMAN FOOD! No ifs, ands, ors, or buts. When my parents brought me home they adhered to this rule as if it were in the Bible. No amount of begging, whining, or crying would ever get them to break their own self-made rule. Who can blame them? After all, they really don't want a whiny, crying fat pug on their hands all the time whenever they eat. Right?

I never really liked that rule. I'm not sure when that rule was broken. Was it a weekend when Daddy was away and Mommy felt like spoiling me? Or was it the day that I stole food off of Mommy's fork when she was eating on the couch? Or was it when Daddy was working from home and he thought I could have a piece of his food?


Over the past year, I've eaten a lot of human food, such that I much prefer it over my own dried-up meat cereal. In fact, I hate it when the humans don't share with me. They're supposed to share with me.

When Mommy eats pizza, she gives me the crust. But, the other night she didn't. She just sat it on the table. I don't understand why she wouldn't give it to me. Was she trying to torture me? If she's not going to eat it and not give it to me, she could at least have the decency to throw it away or take it out of my sight!


Usually, if they don't share, I will steal the food. If I am not in the position to steal food I will beg and whine until they give me what I want. Usually, this works. Which is why I always try this.


I start by spreading my arms on the table and then I lay my head down and whimper until I've got their attention. If that doesn't work, I walk around the table and try to pull the food towards me. When that doesn't work, I bark-loudly!

I don't know why they do this to me. Why must they withhold food from me? I'm just a hungry little pug...

The Torture Continues

There is a reason why I fear laundry baskets, cardboard boxes, vacuum cleaners, ect. And no, it's not because I'm a pansy, or a wuss, or a chicken.

It's because I get chased with the vacuum cleaner, broom, cardboard box, and laundry baskets. And yes, one of these days I will get sucked up into the vacuum cleaner. Until then, I continue to run away and hide under the bed.

I really wonder what popped into my parents head the other night after they finished their laundry, that made them decide, "Hey, let's torture Oscar with the laundry basket."

Yes, they chased me with it. I ran and it was all fun and games until it ended up on top of me! Do I look like a vicious caged animal in the above picture? Now, I understand those poor caged creatures and why they turn evil.

I'll do anything for a treat.

Even if that means jumping into a laundry basket for a photo shoot. Look at my face! Don't I look thrilled? I promise you, revenge is on its way!

And, as if that wasn't enough fun enough for those people, they decided to put the treat inside the laundry basket and make me get it.

I am all for working for treats, but when I say working, I mean whining until they give me what I want or the occasional "sit-stay-lie down-sit-stay-wait 10 seconds-OK" routine.

Again, I'll do anything for a treat. Even if it means conquering my fear of laundry baskets. Unfortunately, every single time I touched the basket it would move!


I'm pretty sure it is alive and that it is working with the parents against me! I tried, and tried, and tried and tried to get the treat without going into the laundry basket. Finally, that man whom I used to call my Father, tipped the basket over so I could lean in and get the treat. But then the basket would roll!

In the end, I got my treat. My very very much deserved treat. Then I got another treat. And another. Then a fourth!


Somewhere along the way I lost track of how many treats I received. I was greatly rewarded for being subjected to my parents cruelty, for lowering myself to them, and for losing all honor to be humiliated for their entertainment.

I am a battered, broken soul.



And with whatever is left of me, I promise you-there will be revenge!