You're either a pug person or you're not. I can tell in an instant when someone walks in my office; confronted with pictures of our eight pugs they either laugh aloud or wrinkle up their noses and say "only a mother could love THAT." Being the nice person I am, I don't point out that by wrinkling their noses they themselves look like pugs! And being even nicer, I don't explain that a lot of strangers don't know that I'm a mother because they only see pictures of pugs. But the many pugs we rescue are a direct result of the fact that our son is in Heaven and our pugs are our "children" here on earth. Last year we were very sad and needed some cheering up. Now, some people didn't think adding a senior pug to an existing household of three pugs and two humans was a great idea at the time, but they haven't met Sassy.
Sassy was our first rescue. Her ugly mug (and I mean it was ugly) just looked so pathetic on the APRA website. We inquired about her as company for our partially paralyzed senior gal. After all, she was advertised as a couch potato. Little did we know that despite Sassy's advancing years and unfortunate career as a breeder, she has the personality of Peppermint Patty and the smooth fur of a baby seal. If she wants food or love she goes from 0 to 110 mph in ten seconds. If, on the other hand, she wants to sleep, nothing short of construction equipment can move her.
Well, that was a success. When we learned that APRA had a new puppy born with birth defects that tore at us again. And like many, we cried when we learned that little Macky's sister died. And we fretted as we went through his corrective surgeries. And we begged when his permanent home was being chosen. Well, little Macky -- at an astonishing 18 pounds-- is best buddies now with our 36 pound, strapping Yoki. They are inseparable and Yoki sleeps with his arm around Macky. They look ridiculous together but you can tell the little guy is ecstatic to be a dog, a regular ol' dog, a "nothin' wrong with ME" dog. Another APRA miracle.
Poppa, the godfather, was tough. Kept outdoors for twelve years, heartworm positive, covered in mange and deaf. He had no clue what a dog bed was or why this odd woman was attempting to touch him but…he sure liked those liver treats. He's gained 7 pounds, his fur has grown glossy, his eyes are alert and his ears have cleared up. And though he tries to maintain his tough exterior, he'll let you pat him if no ones looking.
Was Muu Muu or Sir Beasley next? Muu Muu was advertised as a tad "obese". She looks normal to me but we're notorious for comfort feeding our dogs (the chubbier they look, the thinner we look) She also is a "brindle" pug. Don't bother looking that up in the AKC guide to the breed, it ain't there. Her crime? Being too affectionate and snoring. How the poor gal made it to nine without snoring is beyond me. Our bedroom sounds like an airport with all those pugs (and dear husband) sawing away.
I guess this leaves Sir Beasley, the most unlikely Don Juan. As noted by APRA, he's cranky, screams like a murder victim at odd moments, is blind, and demands that you hold him at all times. Well, imagine our shock that no one wanted to adopt him. Never ones to resist a challenge, we said "sign us up." Well, the gals in the house thought we'd brought in Elvis/Tom Jones/Brad Pitt in one package. Muu interprets his crankiness as decisiveness. Sassy likes how his screaming shakes the house up. Mags doesn't mind that he's blind because, well, she has put on a few pounds. And me, what better way to spend our time than holding a pug that, were it not for APRA, would not be loved.
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