My momma came home from her trip to the big city of Fargo last night…
…and this is what she brought back with her:
A dog trapper hat.
For which I deduced was made for a dog to wear while trapping, not for something else to wear while trapping dogs.
Because, yup, you read that right. They have made it explicitly clear: “For Dogs Only.”
The dog trapper hat is not for a cat.
Or a baby.
And, unfortunately it is not for me, even though I’ve been looking for a winter hat that has cutouts for my ears.
Anyway, I’ll tell you something about my momma–buying outfits for dogs is not her typical behavior.
Buying turtlenecks, knit scarves and Christmas sweaters for my husband is more her thing.
But, perhaps she was feeling a bit defeated in her attempts to convert the man I married into the beatnik she always knew would be right for me, so she thought she could work her styling magic on her new BFF–the pug.
Ok momma, let’s see how this works out.
So, without further adieu, I present to you the makeover:
Chug the pug before. A small but feisty pup who just came in from a breakfast of, no doubt, squirrel guts and poop, the evidence of his meal remaining on his face. Clearly a pathetic creature in need of a new wardrobe and bit of sprucing up.
And…
…drumroll please….
Chug the pug after:
Poof! Transformation a success. What a dashing, nobel and adequately dressed trapping hound. Now this looks more like a dignified pup who eats squirrels and poop the proper way...with a knife and fork.
Now let’s go outside and test his new accessory against the elements. Is it fashionable as well as functional?
Let’s find out…
“I. Hate. You.”
What was that?
Are you warm?
I can’t hear you…
…someone is laughing hysterically at the top of her lungs.
How rude.
It’s times like these I wonder what my life has become.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go get to work on my social life. I think it may need more help than the pug.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch... 
Aww, how cute..guess you need to buy a few more cute outfits..are u a sports fan? I’ve seen many sporty sport sweaters in Fargo for dogs and cats. Wishing you a beautiful weekend. Nicole
Mission accomplished
I love the look on his face! Clearly he knows you are having fun at his expense. I used to dress up my black retired racing greyhound, SuuKyi. My husband worked out of town 5 days a week so it was just the two of us at home. I found that a farmer’s scarf folded in a triangle and tied over her ears made her look like something from “Fiddler on the Roof”. Add an apron and she really did look the part. A bath towel tucked into her collar transformed her into “Super Dog” and it flapped in the wind as she chased me around the house. You can see that I too, needed more of a social life. I think the greatest insult she endured were the bunny ears she wore at Easter – how humiliating for a professional bunny hunter!!!! You’ve got a long winter ahead of you Jessie!
Oh humiliation is not a strong enough word to express this animal’s distaste at his outfit. It’s funny how they know.
Thanks for sharing your story about your pup. She sounds like quiet the gal.
He’s obviously humiliated–moreso than when he encountered the porcupine. Squirrel guts and poop–sounds like dog cuisine to me. My dog goes out and smells her “Pmail” everyday.
Oh my gosh, you know by now how cute I think this is!! Anyways, thought of you this weekend at a conference when the speaker gushed about her love of the Dakotas. She could not love up on South Dakota without including North Dakota, like she was afraid of hurting your state’s feelings. Those out-of-stater’s, I tell ya.
Anyways, great post, and Happy Thanksgiving!
Hilarious. North Dakota…I guess she must have thought my state was a little sensitive. How nice of her to include us in her gushing.
Oh and congrats on the hunt!
Happy Turkey day to you too. Does your hubby go and get ya a wild bird for the occasion?
I’m thinking this might qualify as abuse. I’m pretty sure Pug would agree. If he’s not speaking to you in the morning, you’ll know why.
Yup Carol. I think I crossed the line.
He’s still pissed.
Tell Uncle Beth that on her way home from Fargo next time, she may want to stop in Jamestown at the State Hospital for a little checkup.
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