I’ve been meaning to tell you some things about the pug. You’re all so supportive of him, the dog who, despite his sins and misadventures, still somehow finds a way to sleep on the couch.
Anyway, I figured you might be wondering how he’s been adjusting to this new life in his new home over the hill.
I’ll tell you, at times, it hasn’t been pretty…
And sometimes, his ear does this.
I’m guessing it’s probably due to the wind whipping through his fur as his short, stubby legs take his barrel shaped body across the pasture to try his luck at hunting down this guy:
Nope, not much has changed. Despite the new four walls the pudgy canine is still shitting on floors, hitchhiking to the nearest oil sites to see what’s cooking, working on taming the new feline in his life and exercising his delusions of grandeur.
And every year those delusions get, well, grander.
Don’t tell him he’s not a horse. He won’t believe you.
He will also not accept that he is not a cat.
Or a 110 pound cow dog.
Which is working out really well, now that Husband is on board with the idea that this dog could actually become something… well…helpful.
And so Husband has decided to work on it, you know, making the pug the best cow dog on our place. Which I realize doesn’t say much for the other dogs at the Veeder Ranch, but based on what we have to choose from, I’ll tell you, it could be true.
But it’s definitely weird.
Because the pug’s newly-honed talent has allowed for a fat little pug-shaped space in the corner of my husband’s heart.
Now I wasn’t aware this new role and relationship was occurring until I witnessed the pug stare down a small herd of cattle that had found their way to our front yard, pleasantly munching on what was left of the green grass poking out from under the fallen oak leaves and acorns.
Anticipating that damn dog’s next move, I hollered his name.
I hollered “no.”
I hollered “get back here!”
The pug turned his good eye toward me in confusion while Husband came up behind me, scolding me for yelling at the pooch.
He then proceeded to inform me that lately he had been working with the pug on the whole cow-chasing thing, because, well he seemed he was brave enough, and when told to “sick ’em” the lab just runs for the first big stick.
So it’s either Husband or the pug who is destined to perform the task of getting those cows out of the yard.
And it seems the pair have found their common ground.