Wednesday, March 30, 2011


Mom and I walk, uh-lot, and I'm always surprised (and maybe a little scared) when I see a dog wandering around without a leash!

See, we live in a city that has a leash law. Which means, quite simply, if your dog is outside, not in a fenced area, the dog needs to be on a leash. Simple.

I don't care if "she never leaves the lawn!" or "he's so friendly, he wouldn't hurt a fly!" or one of my favorites, "she's too old to care"- uhm, if she's too old to "care" about me walking with my mom, do you think maybe she's old too care if she walks into the street and gets hit by a car?

On our walk yesterday we encountered TWO dogs outside without a leash. The first one, is a chocolate lab, and mom and I know (from previous experience) that she's not friendly (which, honestly I don't understand. What's there NOT to like? I gotta lot to offer!) As mom and I walked to the other side of the road, mom saw the owner standing at her front door. Just watching.

Here's what I'd like to know. Was she just watching to see if her unleashed dog was going to attack us? And, if the dog approached us, did she think her Spidey-senses would kick in and she'd magically appear next to us to control her dog?

We kept walking.

Then we walked down another street and a little yorkie walked right towards us. Her owner was standing at the bottom of the driveway. Mom and I stopped. I sat (and waited for further instructions from mom). Mom said to the lady, "Excuse me! Is this your dog?" The woman was startled and said, "OH. MY. GOSH! MAGGIEEEEEEEE! GET BACK HERE!" she started towards us, "She's just a chicken. She never leaves our yard!" The lady picked up Maggie, and smacked her! "Bad dog! BAD DOG MAGGIE!"

There were so many things wrong with this, most of which is if the owner were more responsible, she would have put Maggie on a leash and the whole situation would have been avoided.

Maggie wasn't a "bad dog" and didn't deserve a smack. Maggie is a dog. Dogs like to sniff and be adventurous. It is your responsibility as a dogs owner (or person) to protect your animals.

That is why a leash law is so important. But, as mom said, laws are only good if people follow them.

Here's another thing to think about: if you let your dog roam, and lets say they get hit by a car- how awful will you feel that it was totally preventable? And the poor driver of the car who hit your dog- if your dog was chasing after a rabbit (or ball, or child, or another dog, or the chicken who decided to cross the street) its not the drivers fault. It is your fault for not being a responsible pet-parent.

Mom knows that I love her and I'd never leave her side, no matter how many times I've told her this. Irregardless, she always puts me on a leash. Why? Because mom understands that if I see a squirrel, I'll run after it. If I see a dog walking on the sidewalk, I'll run over to it and say hi. I wouldn't ever intentionally run away from mom, but I'm a dog. I've got instincts and no matter what, I will follow them.

With all of this being said, please leash your dog. Get a tie-out if your going to leave your dog in the front yard or install an Invisible Fence. Don't be like Maggie's mom.

And, on a side note- don't smack your dog! Smack yourself for being stoopid.

Monday, March 28, 2011

My buddy

So grandma and grandpa have a dog, Winston. He's always been an old dog (or, let me be more politically correct, a "senior") but he was over this weekend and, I gotta tell you, he's old.

I learned quickly that Winston is different from other dogs I meet. He's never been energetic, or, spunky- wagging his tail is pretty much the extend of his excitedness.

We started to call him Eeyore (from Winnie the Pooh) because they had a lot in common, such as:
- energy levels (always hovered in the "low" zone)
- coordination (sometimes he'd walk into walls)
- alertness (this one kinda speaks for itself)
One thing they didn't have in common- Winston's tail never fell off.

HOWEVER, Winston is very sensitive when it comes to his tail. Like, if grandma were to accidentally step on it, he'd give her a little "nip" to let her know he's there. So, maybe he and Eeyore do have another thing in common! Hmmm...

As with most things, time ages them (except me of course, I will remain a puppy foreverz!) and Winston has gone from his youthful Eeyore enthusiasm to trying to pour molasses on a cold day. He doesn't budge.

Winston was over this weekend and I greeted him as I usually do with some sniffs (to make sure its him) and a potty break in the backyard. But, after he peed, my buddy tried to turn around, and he fell. He couldn't right himself. I walked over to him and gave a little nudge with my nose- he got back up, went inside and spent the rest of the day on his pillow. Sleeping.

I felt like Fran's mother on The Nanny, when Winston came in the house. Who, when Fran walks into the kitchen, after being away for sometime she yells, "WHATS WRONG WITH YOU? THEY DON'T FEED YOU IN (insert a random city)? You're all skin and bones- here have a sandwich and tell ma' all about it!"

Mom says I'm not an old Jewish lady, and Winston doesn't eat sandwiches...but I beg to differ. I just want my buddy back.

Friday, March 25, 2011


Ok, this might come as a surprise, but I can't talk (audibly, anyway). My conversations with mom are like, oh how do you say, one sided. I mean, she always gets my point across (telepathically, of course), but sometimes I just need to speak my own mind.

This is where my squeaky toys come in. Specifically, my brain.
You see, the brain squeaks. So when I do this:I know everyone is hearing exactly what I want to say.

Mom and dad have tried to supplement my brain with other toys that don't squeak as "loud". This is what I did to the last one:I tore off his tail and then, this happened:I tore off his long tongue. Opps.

So for a long time now mom and dad do a "squeak-test" before buying me any new toys. This is so embarrassing, because of course they do this in a public place, while I'm WITH them (and there is always another dog walking by, looking...mocking!) The most recent toy that received the squeak-test was the Squeeki Tiki
Apparently the tikis, while incredibly cool looking, were too "loud" and so we left them in Petsmart.

To add insult to my already injured pride, one of the dogs with mocking-eyes, got one! NO FAIR! I think I'm going to start a Squeeki Tiki fund (please make checks payable to Jack the Puggle) that would really surprise dad when he comes home from work!

But, until I receive enough donations to afford my squeeki tiki, I'll just play with my brain. (I love this last one of me. I decided to turn my head from mom- in a sign of reluctance until I get a squeeki tiki!)

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Red Lobster

Look at this dog toy I just found here. You know, even though I don't like sand (I went to the beach once and didn't like the non-solid ground. My feet kept slipping out from under was a mess!) I do love the beach and the whole beachy-vibe!

Pretty sure having a lobster toy like this would make me feel like a real fisherman!

Oh, or maybe a pirate! Rrrrrrr!

Friday, March 18, 2011


My sniffer works real good. Maybe sometimes too good. Case in point, yesterday.

Mom walks into the house, after being gone for (what felt like) eons, and she smells of:
- a turkey sandwich, on wheat bread, with lettuce, tomato and mayo
- a pickle
- and...what's this? ANOTHER DOG? Wait, TWO other dogs...OMG, I'm dying, THREE OTHER DOGS?

ON MY MOM?! She had some 'splainin to do!

Here's what she told me, "I was busy meeting with other dogs who I might bring home one day and replace you with". Ok- wait a minute...she didn't saaaaay that. That's just what I heard, while sniffing her jeans, shirt, hands, jacket, shoes, ankles, wrists and neck. Yes. I'm thorough.

After I had a mini melt down (which consisted of me whining, more than usual and asking mom to play with my rope, brain, bone, tiger and foot- all at once!) I was relieved to learn I will be an only puggle for a very long time.

Mom soothed me while saying things like, "there is no replacement for you" "you are our only boy" "we love you so much" "you might be spoiled, but that's only because your special"...

Good news? I was able to make sure she knew how much I loved her right back. How'd I do that? Simple. Throw my whole body on top of her, snuggle up as close as I can get, twist my tail around her wrist, fall asleep and start snoring. Works like a dream!

Monday, March 7, 2011

They say its your birthday

Everyone has their "thing".

Some people like to cook. Some like to bake. Some are athletes...some are couch potatoes...I like to host birthday parties. Well, with mom's help, of course!

Here's what I love about parties: I love people, people bring presents. Presents are wrapped, I love tearing/chewing/making a huge mess with wrapping paper. See how that works? So every time we have a party not only do I get to see our family and friends, but I get to munch on the wrapping paper!

Dad had a birthday last month and to make it more fun, mom and I had him go on a scavenger hunt around the house to find all his presents. (We couldn't just put a big pile in front of him- where's the fun in that?) So after he found all his gifts (we hid one in my house!) it was time to open them! My FAVORITE part of parties!!

After his first gift was open, I was ready for more paper...oh wait, do I have something on my face?
Dad gave me one of the shirt boxes (which kept me busy for a very long time!)
What do you mean that was the last present? Are you suuuuuure?

So, here's an open invite: if you have a party coming up, I'm sure mom won't mind hosting it, just so I can play with your wrapping paper!