Pug Spill!


Ok Daddy, I get it, you really love that Western shirt on the rack . . . it’s calling out your name, I totally get it! But seriously, did you have to throw all of your bags on the floor (me included) so that you could check it out with both of your hands? Look at me! I look like a crazed batty pug turned upside down—like some kind of tortoise spilling out of my travel bag. I’ve been tossed across the floor alongside that damn umbrella that never opens smoothly all because of a damn button-down shirt! I blame you Urban Outfitters. If you didn’t carry such cool clothes, I’d be sitting upright in my bag like a respectable lady pug! But no, instead I’m here, on the floor, waiting while my Daddy analyzes the snap buttons and the structure of the collar on that shirt! I guess all I can do is just wait so I’ll wait. I’m waiting . . . Hey, you look really funny from this perspective! That mustache of yours looks like it’s growing right out of your nose . . . and just how long ARE your legs? Jesus, you look like a damn redwood straight out of Muir Woods Park from this perspective! Just watch where you step Daddy, I’m resting right on top of your boot and I’m in a vulnerable position right now! Oh, and where’s the little guy? Where’s my other Daddy? Oh wait, here he comes, straight out of the fitting room wearing a snug pair of pants and a cute t-shirt. Looks like these two knuckle-heads will be carrying on for a while and I’m stuck here on the floor!


I suppose if I just sit quietly and patiently for these two to finish their shopping, they’ll reward me with a soft-chew peanut butter treat. They better give me something edible otherwise when we get home, I’ll pee on the rug!


Any minute now . . . .


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