BONZ: Bonzo meets Pugsley, the well-traveled Puggle

This week I got to yap with a Puggle, Pugsly McCaslin, who’s had an adventurous life in his (almost) 8 years. He and his Mom greeted me and my assistant at the door. He was real friendly right off the bat and, I gotta say, he has the kind of face that Humans just go Dog Biscuits for. All squishy, black nose, cheeks, wiffles and ears, the rest mostly tan. Maybe you’re wondering, like I did, what, exactly, IS a Puggle? I didn’t want to be rude, so, after the Wag-and-Sniff, we got all settled and I said tactfully, “So, what’s a Puggle?”

He laughed. “We’ll, some humans call us Designer Dogs, but I just say I’m a mix. My dog dad was a Pug and my dog mom was a Beagle.”

That explained his tidy build, a little taller than a total Pug. “I understand you’ve have quite a full life,” I said, pencil poised.

“I guess you could say I got off to a bumpy start. I was born in a puppy mill in Missouri, where they just care about getting cool-looking pooches and don’t give a fluff about how all that weird breeding can affect our health. My human Mommy and Pawpa, Dede and Bill, travel all over the country for Pawpa’s work. They were in Las Vegas, and spotted me in a pet store. I looked adorable, of course, so the bought me, but they didn’t know how sick I was. I didn’t either. Turns out I have what humans call (I memorized the word) High-Poo-Gly-Seee-Meee-uh. I have to eat every four hours. We don’t getta lotta sleep.”

“Oh, wow!” I said.

“Yep, and even worse, one night I got really sick. Couldn’t breathe. They rushed me to the vet, and found out I had (this is really yukky) worms, zillions of ’em. I had three surgeries, and almost kicked the Dog Bowl! Mommy and Pawpa spent thousands on me just that first year. Believe me, Bonzo, I NEVER forget how lucky I am that they didn’t just give up on me, ya know?”

“I sure do!” I told him. We all know Put To Sleep doesn’t really mean sleep.

“Now that I’m much better. I’m having a ball travelling with Mommy and Pawpa. I’ve lived in 27 states and ridden in cars, airplanes, a fire engine and a covered wagon!”

My ears went up. “I gotta hear more about THAT!” I exclaimed.

“I met this Dalmatian in Independence, Mo., he’s a firedog and he invited me to ride on his engine in the Christmas parade. THAT was pawsome! Then, me and Mommy and Pawpa got to ride in a real covered wagon, when we toured the home of the human lady who wrote that book, ‘Little Doghouse on the Prairie,’ or something like that.”

“Cool Pupperoni!”

“I KNOW. Right? I love bein’ on the road, but I still hafta go to school. I’ve been to several, mostly learning to be a Service Dog for Mommy, but also for Obedience and Tricks. I love Tricks. Watch!”

He was really good. And fast! Did all his tricks one after another: Sit! Roll All the Way Over! High 10! Go to Sleep! Wake Up! Then he got up on his back legs and walked across the room and back, then twirled around a few times. No Woof!

“I don’t wanna brag,” he said, slightly out of breath, “but, I got second for Best Trick at the Doggie Paddle and Play Day in Vegas, and first for Best Trick and second for Best Dancer at Paws For A Cause in Nebraska. I was on TV and everything! I’m good at Agility, too. But I’m still working on Obedience. It’s just that I’m a Free Spirit. Sometimes I just don’t feel motivated. But I’m serious about my important job, helping Mommy. I hold a Service Dog Degree from Michael’s Angel Paws in Vegas, and took post-grad courses at Therapy Dog Services in North Carolina. You know what really frosts my water bowl?”

“Er, no. What?”

“Pooches who call themselves Service Dogs but they’re not. Wear vests and everything. Haven’t had ANY training. Don’t know the First Thing about it! That’s just WRONG!”

“I see your point,” I said, skillfully changing the subject before he got too riled up. “I bet you’ve met tons of pooches during your travels.”

“Gosh, yes. I grew up in Vegas. There’s a dog park on every corner, and the mutts are so-o friendly. We had an 85-member Puggle Meet-Up group, and I was the leader! My Bestie out there is Pancake, a Boxer, she’s like a sister to me. Lots of my Vegas pooch pals are in Show Biz, and talk about stories!

“Sounds like you’re pretty popular with the ladies, hey, Pugs? So, what’re ya up to here in Florida?”

“I’m tryin’ something different. Surfin’!”

“No woof! I have a dog buddy who’s a champion surfer. Waldo Leverette. I’ll get you his number. He’s one rad dude!”

“Hey, thanks! I’ve got great balance. Low center of gravity, ya know. Trouble is, when I fall in, my rear end sinks, and I sorta bob around. It’s called Pug Butt.”

I couldn’t help myself. I burst out in a big laugh, but I pretended I was coughing.

“That’s a bummer,” I managed.

Heading home, I was smiling, remembering all Pugsly’s stories, ’specially the one about Pug Butt.

Till next time,

The Bonz

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