Approach life gently. Treat life kindly. Live life fully and with enthusiasm.
Respect life--always.

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Chasing Squirrels

DSC00622I realized this morning, in a rather rude fashion, that I had not posted any Pug funnies lately. You see, our home is full of Pugs, three to be exact, though when they are underfoot, it seems like there’s more. A whole lot more!

Our Tinker Belle, famous (or infamous???) now because of all this exposure, is the youngest at almost four. She is a riot, especially when it comes to her toys. Being very toy-aggressive and possessive, we cannot even say the “S” word in our house. In fact, we have had to resort to spelling s-q-u-i-r-r-e-l, even when we see one in the yard, even though, thankfully, she has never tangled with a live one. She is just obsessed about the squeaky, furry, stuffing-less ones we get at Petco. In fact, she loves the squeakers so much that her sharp, little teeth have usually punctured all of them by the end of the first day. The last toy Ken bought for Tink had at least 20 squeakers in it, and that one barely lasted two days. I’ve looked online for industrial-strength squeakers for devil dogs, but, alas, I cannot find any.

Oh, I just realized that I have not told you about my rude awakening this morning. And no it wasn’t a slobbery squirrel in the face, though she has done that to me before. At times, to get the dog to go to bed, we have to hide her toys. Last night, Ken hid her squirrel in the bathroom, hanging on the showerhead. Well, it doesn’t take a dog with an awesome sniffer long at all to figure out where her toys have gone. This morning, she was in the tub, on the shower seat, screaming and crying like a wounded animal—all in an attempt to get at the showerhead and her beloved squirrel.

And during all of this, where are her buddies, Max and Suzie? Ignoring her, of course!


Why, just check out that look of boredom!


If only she were a few inches taller . . .


Now, I love my dog, but that stinky squirrel ain’t going anywhere near my mouth—ever. Ken must be crazy.




Walk tall, carry pointy chompers.


And if that doesn’t work, sneak up on it from below.


Maybe jumping at it will work.


Ken is driving Tink crazy with a tiny whistle.


Hey, she finally got it!


To the victor go the spoils.


A good time was had by all.

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