Tabloid disaster averted

After hours of intense interrogation, my security forces have determined that the feline interloper was a paparazzi photographer who was staking out my compound. The Revolutionary Guard confiscated and destroyed his digital camera, which included several ... shall we say, undignified shots of me exiting Paris Hilton's car. Thank Allah, they will never see the light of day.

Security breach

As I have detailed before, a feline intruder has been hanging around the ayatollah compound. I often see him conducting surveillance from the street, and sometimes he even ventures into my yard. When he realizes he has been sighted, he flees. This has been an ongoing security concern for the ministry. Although we have nothing against cats, per se, this lurking fellow is quite clearly up to no good. So I have some excellent news to report: We have found the secret lair of this feline interloper.


During a routine patrol, my elite Revolutionary Guard security detail found him in this hidden bunker, beneath the curb beside my property. Unfortunately, the Guardsmen are all bulldogs and are thus too rotund to fit into the spider hole. We have called in a special team of dachshund spelunkers to investigate these catacombs and determine the extent of the security breach. God willing, we will smoke this feline out of his hole before sundown.

Better late than never

As promised, here is your long-overdue reminder to vote early and often for The Ayatollah's Teachings as Dogmark's "Cool Dog Site of the Month." With November nearly over, little time remains to stuff the ballot box. But perhaps, God willing, we can still pull this off. A win might help steer additional traffic to this blog, allowing me to reach the hearts and wallets of a new generation of Pug Lifers.

I am not above political patronage, and your loyalty may very well pay off with a plum appointment in the Pugistan government.

CLICK HERE to view the ballot.

Lacking book smarts

I ventured out to my city's new library today. The impressive building, open only a few months, is a vast improvement over the tiny facility it replaced. Though it does not quite rival this blog as a repository of knowledge, the city library is impressive nonetheless, and I stop by two or three times a month to enjoy the resplendent fruits of my tax dollars at work. But this was no ordinary trip to the library. As I neared the great reading room, normally a peaceful place, I heard a booming voice. A man was talking loudly on his cell phone. I moved forward in dismay and disbelief to survey the room's nonfiction wares. And as I looked, he yapped. On and on it went, an entire conversation for all the reading public to hear. My tail quickly lost its curl.

Now I ask you this, my alarmed flock: Who among us did not learn as a child or puppy or other youthful being that the library is meant to be a quiet place? How can one be so lacking in couth as to defy this most basic of tenets? Was this man raised by wolves? Such an assumption would hardly seem fair, for I have yet to find a lupine creature so lacking in manners.

Certainly we can overlook the occasional vocal indiscretions of a child, who may not know any better. But a grown man? Clearly, this infidel was openly defying the proper social order -- not to mention the fatwa I delivered at the 2004 Canine Clerics Convention in Damascus. So lest anyone witness such behavior and think it the norm, let me reiterate that fatwa for you now: It is absolutely forbidden to make undue noise at a public library. If you must speak, speak in a quiet voice, a whisper even --- as you were no doubt taught in grade school. And unless it is an emergency, take the cell phone calls outside. This deplorable behavior must not be tolerated, and so long as I am supreme ayatollah of Pug Life Ministries, it will not be.

Do not make me issue a fatwa ...

I am watching "The National Dog Show" on NBC, and frankly, I am appalled. Several of the human contestants are picking up their dogs by the tail and leash (ie, the throat). This is no way to pick up a canine. I expect to see some proper support given for these worthy contestants. Get a hand under the body -- there are more important things in life than maintaining those ridiculous fur-dos.

Happy Thanksgiving

On this Thanksgiving Day, it is time to reflect on some of the blessings of the last year. Though there have been trying times, I am still one fortunate pug.

• I am thankful for my rugged good looks and chiseled physique, which allow me to be undeniably masculine even in a duck suit.
• I am thankful for the ever-growing congregation of Pug Life Ministries. You, my dear readers, are the wind beneath my duckling wings.
• I am thankful for Pug Life's research into enriched rawhide, which promises a brighter tomorrow for canines everywhere.
• I am thankful that the ministry's IRS troubles have, for the time being, been put behind us.
• I am thankful for my wily accountant, formerly of Arthur Andersen.
• I am thankful that my mother cleans the sludge from my eyes. Without her, I would never know its exquisite taste.
• I am thankful for Borat, for inspiring me on my recent vacation to proclaim, "I will not move to a smaller room!" every time I entered the hotel elevator.
  
• I am thankful for Bob Stoops.
• I am thankful for my online gift shop, whose high-quality, sweat-shop-produced merchandise is set to become the must-have stocking-stuffer item of this holiday season.
• I am thankful for my boundless albeit irrational optimism.

On U.S. soil again

I am back in Texas, having returned last night weary but satisfied after a wonderful vacation. Rome did not disappoint, and neither did baby Suri, whom I had the pleasure of dining with at the wedding of Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes. While there, I met with some Scientology representatives to discuss the establishment of a Pug Life Scientology center. It seems to hold some profit potential, but nothing has been worked out. I remain leery of the religion after seeing what it did to Eddie from "Frasier." He was just never the same after he started his auditing sessions.

I found Rome to be a delightful city. Its rich history is on display at every turn, which prompted me to take several hundred photos. I will try to post a few on my travel blog when I get a chance.

My good friend Pope Pius Pug was a gracious tour host, shuttling me to several sites in the popemobile. Some of my favorite places were the Pantheon; the ruins of the Forum, the Palatine Hill, Ostia Antica and the Colosseum; St. Peter's Basilica; and the Sistine Chapel. And, of course, there was the previously mentioned Santa Maria della Concezione, where I witnessed the mouth-watering sight of thousands of human bones turned into decorative objects. In an apparent (and successful) bid to sell postcards, the church was adamantly opposed to anyone taking photos inside its crypt. But I did find some photos online to share with you. Truly, I believe it is the oddest place I have ever been.

The pope and I also discussed some major plans for Pug Life Ministries and the Dogloo compound, some of which I will share with you in the coming days. I am grateful to Pope Pius Pug for taking time out of his busy schedule to show me around and ensure that I was well fed with pizza, pasta and gelato. I know that his schedule was also occupied with investigating a possible miracle involving the image of Jesus and the hindquarters of a terrier mix, so his hospitality was much appreciated.

When in Rome ...

I am typing this as I wait for the maids to finish cleaning my hotel room. I pray that the rawhide residue will not prove too difficult to remove from the sheets. I have seen all kinds of wondrous sights in Rome, so many that I am contemplating moving the ministry. Is it possible to get by in Rome when all you know how to say is "gratzie"? It appears so.

I visited a church that uses the bones of more than 4,000 Capuchin monks for decorations. Pieces of bone cover the walls and ceilings in ornate patterns. Even the chandeliers are made of bones. I briefly contemplated incorporating something similar into the Dogloo Cathedral, but the pope made a good argument to the contrary: The parishioners might chew up all of our decorations.

Those germ-riddled humans

At last, I am back at my blogging station. My father has been sick for the last week, so I have been occupied with nursing him back to health, showing him how to get the most out of 18 hours a day in bed. I have elevated such rest-taking to an art form. A couple of days ago, my father managed to pass his germs along to my mother, so I then began to show her the ways of healing rest. It reminded me of a question I was once asked at the mosque. "Mugsy," a young follower barked to me, "why is it that the humans pass germs to each other, but we pugs never succumb to their illnesses. Is this because we are created in God's image, a more highly evolved species?" In a word, yes. But I believe there is more to it than this. For years, I have encouraged my parents to eat a nutrient-rich diet like mine. I have repeatedly offered to share my rawhide with them, even pushing it toward their unwilling mouths. Yet they always decline. Rawhide is nature's great protector, and I urge all humans to try it. It has worked for Dr. Phil, peace be upon him.

But though my parents do not partake in that most heavenly of treats, they are now on the mend. A combination of antibiotics and my healing saliva -- which I have liberally applied to their toes -- has them regaining some energy. And it is just in time, for we are to leave for Rome on Saturday. As I told my parents yesterday: Shape up, or I will ship out without you.