Hi pet buddies! My interview this week reminded me of how lucky I am (and hopefully you are, too) to have a loving Forever Family and a nice, soft bed and never have to worry where the next bowl of kibbles is coming from. ‘Specially ‘cuz not every pooch is lucky like us. Sometimes humans just aren’t nice to animals and sometimes they have to give their pooches away even though they don’t want to.
Anyway, this week, I yapped with Gator Merritt, who is a rescue pug, and he’s doin’ OK now, but his story made me want to hurry home and give all my Humans lots of slurps and snuggles and wags.
When me and my Assistant knocked, we right away heard lots of little pooch toenails clicking on the floor and lots of yaps. As soon as their human Mom opened the door, four little pugs greeted us with wag-and-sniff pirouettes. One pooch was a little slower than the others. He said, graciously, “Welcome, Mr. Bonzo. You can see we’re so happy to meet you. I’m Gator. This is our Foster Mom, Toni, and these are my pug buddies Paco, Theo and Moye. Sweet Pea is sorta shy – she’s in the kitchen. SWEET PEA! Come on out and meet Mr. Bonzo!”
Gator led us into the living room, where all the couches were covered with comfy blankets. “Just sit anywhere,” he said, and we all founds spots and settled in. Gator had a nice soft, creamy-colored coat, with black face and sox, and a curly tail. But I could see he’d been sick. He had some ow-ees that were still healing, and a place where his coat was shaved where he said a special medicine patch goes. But, in spite of all that, he was very good-natured. “Mom says you wanna hear my story.”
“Absolutely,” I said, my pencil poised.
“Well, I used to live with this lady in South Florida who liked how cute I am but, when I started to get sick, she didn’t like all the trouble I was, even though I couldn’t help it. She had just got nice new carpets and I had some accidents. I felt really bad, but what could I do?”
I was already beginning to choke up. I put my pencil down and wiped my nose. In my family, when one of us gets sick, the rest of us do everything we can to help ‘em feel better. My Mom says that’s ‘cuz we love each other no matter what.
Gator continued: “Well, I figured I was Soggy Dog Biscuits. Thank Lassie my human called a special number and told them to come get me outta there right away. Later, I found out the number she’d called was for Pug Rescue: it’s one of those groups of really nice humans who love pooches even when we’re sick or have little accidents and they come save us when we need help, which I sure did. Anyway, my Foster mom was the one who came and rescued me and, when she found out how sick I was, and that I hadn’t been to a vet, she took me to the Florida Veterinary League right away. (They work with Pug Rescue.) Dr. Horn’s really nice, I don’t even mind all my procedures ‘cuz I know they’re making me much better.
“I’m the oldest pooch here – I’m 10 – so I’m a little slower, but I really like hanging out with my buds, ‘specially Moye, he’s my BFF. And,” he paused and got this big smile on his really cute, black smushy face – even his big, black eyes were smiling, “I bet you didn’t know THIS: What do you call a bunch of pugs?”
I had no clue. “Er … a pack? A herd? A gaggle? Beats me!”
“A Grumble!” he said. Isn’t that cool?
“Wow! That’s awesome. A grumble of pugs. I don’t think Springer Spaniels have a special name like that. Hmmm. Maybe we could be a Bounce! Or a Boing!”
Gator laughed. “A Boing of Springer Spaniels! I like that!”
“So, do you get special food?” I asked.
“We all get kibbles. No Snacks. Mom’s strict. Plenty of water. ‘Cuz of my condition, I lost all but two of my teeth, so Mom wets my food to make it nice and soft.
“We have a big fenced yard to play in. And we have lots of toys.” He pointed his paw toward the corner, where a really big basket overflowed with toys. “And that’s just some of ‘em,” he said.
“You guys seem pretty laid back. Who’s the Alpha?” I was curious.
Gator laughed. “We’re all boys except Sweet Pea. Moye thinks he’s Boss but, actually, Sweet Pea’s the Alpha. Just don’t tell Moye.
“Honestly, Bonzo, we’re very lucky pooches. Mom takes good care of us, washes our faces, makes sure we get medicine if we need it. She even sleeps right out here on the living room couch, ‘cuz all our beds are in here and she’s right here, too, in case we need anything.
“When anybody wants a pug, they call Pug Rescue like my other human did, but not to boot us out like she did, out but to give us a Forever Home. AND, before a human gets one of us, they have to pass lots of Tests to be sure they’ll be good Pooch Parents and that they’re a good match. And some of us get to stay with our Foster humans, like here. We’re just one big, happy Grumble!”
All the way home, I was counting my blessings.
