Growing up as a child, I used to love to go to my Grandma and Grandpa's house. My favorite thing about the house was the huge raspberry garden my Grandma had out back and their pug dog, Rosie. My Grandma always loved pugs. Her whole life she had pugs. She had 5 pugs total but the one I grew up with was Rosie. She was born the same month I was and we were best friends. I still remember everything about Rosie…her bark, the games she liked to play and how she used to always chase her tail.
My Grandma spoiled Rosie so bad and she had the worst manners. If fact, all of Grandma's pugs were spoiled brats and nobody really liked them but her and I. Growing up with Rosie started my love affair for pug dogs. I always had an imaginary pug dog named Lucy. For years the only thing I would ask for for Christmas or my birthday was a pug. Here is my friend Karen's pug. We look like twins!
Since the only experience my parents had with pugs were my Grandma's spoiled pugs, I was never allowed to get one. Over the years, I wanted a pug so bad I could taste it. One night while out camping, I was tearing up a newspaper for our campfire and there was an ad for pug dogs that caught my eye. It was in one of those free newspapers you get outside of the supermarket in small towns. It was in a town called Kremling about 20 minutes from Strawberry Springs. I called them immediately to see if they had any of the pugs left and they had one left...the runt.
The next morning, I pulled up to the house to look at the dog. It looked like the Beverly Hillbillies. I couldn't tell but it looked like they were barbecuing SPAM in the grill. There were broken down cars in front with parts strewn everywhere in front of the house. McDonalds bags everywhere. The owner Frank came out with overalls on with no shirt underneath to greet me. He looked like Nick Nolte's mug shot.
His hair glistened like a nose hair after a sneeze. It was a like a nightmare and I almost didn't go in but I had to see the pug. I couldn't come that close to my dream and not touch it. Walking steadily on my patent leather six inch heels, I cautiously stepped through the door. This was after navigating the yard that I would have rather burned then tried to mow.
There was poop on the carpet in the inside of the house. There was RAID on the kitchen counter. Prominently displayed on their mantle was their moving/singing Elvis they got at Graceland. I reluctantly sat on the couch wondering if I should run for the hills or see the dog. What if she was inbred?! I asked about her breeding history. Frank spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it.
He brought the pug out and she was the most beautiful dog I had ever seen. It was love at first sight. I had to get her out of that place.
"My brother from Jawjuh bard my pickup truck, and I aint herd from him in munts." Frank said removing the toothpick from his jaw. I looked at him and I am thinking, "WTF dude? How do I respond to that?"
I asked Frank how long he has been breeding pugs.
"My granpaw retard at age sixty fi."
Ok, time out. Right then a few things went through my head. Things this man in his whole life would sadly NEVER say:
"I'll take American Literature for 1000, Alex"
Duct tape won't fix that.
I didn't mean to hit the deer.
Come to think of it, I'll have a Merlot.
We don't keep firearms in this house.
Honey, I prefer the whole saffron over the powdered.
Has anybody seen the sideburns trimmer?
Do you have oil and vinegar for the salad?
I have it all on my flash drive.
I'll have a venti Americano, please.
Ok back to reality. I didn't mean to digress so bad but I was just in a daze as I was trying to talk to him and he was picking his teeth with a catalogue.
I took her home that day. I got in a lot of trouble at home but eventually my parents came around and she is the grandchild of the family and everyone worships Lucy. She was also very healthy and thankfully not inbred. She also sits in a high chair for every meal.
In fact, after 4 years, my parents loved Lucy so much they wanted another pug and we adopted a male pug named Maxwell.
I moved out long ago and the pugs stayed with their Grandparents who love and adore them. I didn't bring them with me because I live in a condo and the pugs love their home - also Lucy never leaves her brass bed. Here is my Dad and brother Paul - with our pugs and Karen's pug. More pugs the better!
As you guys know, I have a beautiful English Bulldog who came into my life 3 years ago that I will blog about soon :)