At last, Sister Bella surfaces

WASHINGTON (AP) -- Bella the Chihuahua, the tiny dog who brought big fears to the Mexican countryside during her 2006 reign of terror, has been ordered held indefinitely without trial at a high-security military brig, sources said Thursday.

One military official, speaking on condition of anonymity, said the dog was deemed too much of a threat to be allowed in the conventional criminal justice system.

"We are in a war on terror," the official said, "and this dog personifies terror."

Rights groups have traditionally condemned such indefinite detentions and suspensions of habeas corpus. But in this instance, they were largely silent.

One lawyer with the American Civil Liberties Union, who asked to remain anonymous, said his group understood the government's position in holding the highly dangerous, shriek-prone Chihuahua.

"Clearly, she is a menace to all within earshot," he said.

Busy week

It has been over a week since my last post, my flock. It always weighs heavy on my soul when the congregants of Pug Life Ministries are forced to go a prolonged period without my divine guidance, especially in these trying times. But as you can see in the photos below, I have been rather busy.




In addition to the marathon puggyback napping sessions that Wendell and I have engaged in (and they truly are a daily occurrence), here is a recap of some of the events that escaped my blogging attention:

• Wendell recently went under the knife, at the urging of our veterinarian and the great Game-Show Prophet Bob Barker, peace be upon him. Perhaps Wendell's recent outbursts of violence served as a reminder to our parents that the time was right. Or maybe the operation had already been scheduled. In any case, young Wendell recovered quickly from this unkindest cut. As soon as he returned to the ayatollah compound, he proceeded to dash around like a madpug, showing no ill effects whatsoever from this surgery that surely would have felled a human male for days on end. If anything, Wendell seemed to be faster and more energetic, no longer weighed down by any unnecessary appendages. Like yours truly, Wendell appears to be plenty virile to overcome such surgical intervention.
• I met with members of Congress and the Treasury Department this week to lobby for $300 tax rebates for each canine family member in America. Sadly, because of this country's entrenched bias against dogs, the Washington establishment rejected my pleas and agreed only on payments for human children. The infidels. Someday, under the glorious blue skies of Pugistan, they will learn the error of their ways.
• Finally, I have been busy making arrangements for a hastily planned vacation. This entailed, among other things, buying plane tickets, making lodging arrangements, checking on train schedules, and, of course, ensuring that I will have a security team and entourage befitting my stature as leader of the world's largest interfaith, interspecies ministry. In less than a month, I will set paw in Venice as I embark on a long-awaited Italian holiday. Praise Allah! Let us pray that the acqua alta does not force me to put my superb dog-paddling skills to use.

Lies ... all lies

DALLAS (AP) -- A photographer working for OK! Magazine said he was viciously assaulted Thursday by a pug in the entourage of religious icon Ayatollah Mugsy.

The paparazzi cameraman, who witnesses said had been hounding the famed cleric all evening, identified the assailant as Mugsy's younger brother, Wendell. He said the black pug grabbed his camera and threw it to the ground before stomping on it with his ultra-long legs and then running in circles in a menacing manner.

"All the while, the ayatollah just stood by, smirking," said James Thompson, 44. "He wasn't gonna do nothing to help me. I became disoriented. I thought I was gonna die of dizziness after watching that pug."

Police said they were investigating the incident. It wasn't the first time Ayatollah Mugsy's Pug Life Ministries had been involved in a run-in with the paparazzi. Mugsy was accused of attacking a tabloid photographer in December 2006, although no charges were ever filed.

Late Thursday, TV host Phil McGraw, a.k.a. "Dr. Phil," was reportedly turned away from the ayatollah's North Texas compound after making an unannounced visit to check on the alleged assailant. "I believe he may have rage issues," said McGraw, who appeared to be nursing a bite mark on his lower leg.

Wendell's rebellion

I am a little concerned about my brother, my flock. It seems that Wendell is filled with adolescent angst. During a recent rawhide-chewing session, he growled at father when he came near. This struck me as odd, because unlike yours truly, father does not have a history of "borrowing" bones. To my knowledge, he has never even known the pleasure of the leathery flesh. The poor, deprived man.

Mugsy weighs in on presidential race

Today's lesson, my flock, is on American politics. You might think that a disenfranchised pug such as myself, denied the right to vote based solely on my canine DNA, would have little interest in the presidential race and its corresponding media coverage. But I have kept a close eye on the proceedings -- if for no other reason than to know what not to do as I establish the Pugistani political system.

The way the electoral process is conducted, and the way the media influence it, is in my view damaging to the democratic process. Take Mitt Romney, for example. Many pundits have declared that he will be all but out of the race if he doesn't win today's Republican primary in Michigan. After all, he only finished second in the sparsely populated states of Iowa and New Hampshire. What you rarely, if ever, hear from the pundits is that Romney is actually leading the GOP race in delegates. Many state races are not winner-take-all, but you'd never know that if you strictly listened to the media talking heads.

Now let us look at the Democratic race. Hillary Rodham Clinton was said to be in grave danger after her third-place finish in Iowa, while Barack Obama's popularity was skyrocketing. Then, after her win in the New Hampshire primary, the pundits acted as if Clinton had stormed past Obama in the race. Let us be honest here: All we can glean from these results is that Iowans showed a slight preference for Obama, while those in New Hampshire leaned toward Clinton. And in any case, the vote was close enough in New Hampshire that Clinton and Obama actually won the same amount of delegates in the state. But again, you'd never know that from reading or listening to the so-called experts in the popular media.

I bring these points up not to bolster any particular candidate. This blog is nonpartisan, reflecting my beliefs that the U.S. government is merely there to serve as a placeholder and tax-collecting apparatus for the eventual establishment of a canine Muslim state. But it is my hope that the faithful of Pug Life Ministries will look upon these proceedings with the kind of perspective that is sorely lacking in most election coverage. For the sake of making every vote count and every voice heard, the primary race should be a long, drawn-out process -- regardless of whether the pundits and party bosses want to wrap it up quickly.

To make blanket statements on the election based on the results in Iowa and New Hampshire, whose combined population is smaller than the Dallas-Fort Worth metro area, is ludicrous. It is roughly the equivalent of trying to crown the winner of an NBA basketball game based on who scores the first free throw.

Monitoring the faithful

As members of the Armed Revolutionary Forces were conducting a routine search of your home (do not be alarmed; it is for your own protection), they came across an unacceptably grimy computer screen. Don't you ever clean that thing? As we all know, cleanliness is next to dogliness. So the ministry has made arrangements to have your monitor properly scrubbed. Please follow the link below at your earliest convenience.

CLICK HERE TO INITIATE AUTOMATED MONITOR-CLEANING PROGRAM

A letter to the ayatollah at age 13

A few weeks ago, I was tagged by the Wandering Gypsy Princess to complete a meme. The rules: Imagine you could send a letter to yourself at 13 years old. What would you write to yourself? For the typical human blogger, this is a letter of reflection, of looking back. But for me, this is an exercise in clairvoyance. After all, I am only halfway to age 13. So let us now look into the future ...

Dear Self,

I hope this letter finds you well, for I did not know which of your many estates to address it to. No longer are you confined to one paltry compound in the Dallas suburbs.

But I see that that treasured spot in the original ayatollah compound -- the place over the mantle -- now holds not one but two Nobel Peace Prizes. Congratulations; though it took the humans far too long to recognize your contributions, they finally saw the light. Your divine leadership paved the way for peace in the Middle East, stability in Africa and the seas running white with the spilled cotton of infidel chew toys. After all, peace is not for everyone.

Where your blog was once read by only tens of thousands of humans, it is now read by billions. Under penalty of hard labor and public lashings. Praise Allah! Your leadership is grand, ayatollah. Finally, you have consolidated power as you knew you would. You are universally hailed as the greatest canine leader the world has ever known -- more powerful even than the legendary mongrel warlord Rover Khan, who terrorized the Central Asian steppes centuries earlier.

The borders of Pugistan now extend far beyond your once-wildest dreams. Your social reforms, while initially controversial, have proven to be beneficial for the collective soul of the planet. Your fatwa banning most reality TV, and especially anything involving dancing, was a stroke of genius and a victory for the faithful of Pug Life Ministries.

Ayatollah, I see that despite your advancing age, you are still as handsome as ever. Your beard is perhaps a tad whiter, but your chiseled physique continues to inspire awe among males and amorous desires among women. You are the Jack LaLanne of pugs, but without that peculiar blue jumpsuit.

Lest I make your life sound too rosy, it is important to recall the difficulties you have faced. Greatness, after all, is a product of adversity. It has been a monumental struggle, fraught with hard labor by your underlings, to expand your harem at the needed pace. As the miles-long waiting list attests, many fetching concubines are still left out in the cold. But to your credit, you persevere. The Hollywood starlets have been hit especially hard. In your infinite wisdom, you established a harem timeshare program, so that no truly deserving lass would be turned away. Yet some were understandably upset by their limited petting time. The actress Dakota Fanning took it especially hard, but you told her she had to stay strong -- she had to set a good example for the younger concubines.

Peace and rawhide be upon you,

Your 6-year-old self, Mugsy

Half-baked miracle

I have just gotten off the phone with my good friend and business associate Pope Pius Pug, who asked me to use my Texas connections to help him look into a potential miracle. It seems that a woman in Houston claims to have found a sacred spud.

After a preliminary investigation, I told the pontiff that I had quite frankly seen far more impressive starchy miracles in my day. But you know how the pope is -- once he has his mind set on something, he will not be deterred. So I told him I would keep my eyes peeled for further evidence.

Mugsy appeals for decency

I was very disturbed by this news story. A Dallas pug named Scooter has been dognapped and given to a little girl as a gift by her mother, who sent Scooter's caretakers a note and $20. The woman, possibly from Tulsa, Okla., wrote that she was nearly penniless and an alcoholic but that the dog was being well taken care of. Clearly, this is beside the point. Scooter belongs with his family in Dallas. So on the off chance that this woman or someone who might know her is reading, I want to appeal for decency. The rightful caretakers have even offered to buy the woman's daughter a new pug if they can just have their own dog back. Here is a letter from one of the pug's caretakers.

Please, send Scooter home.

Along for the ride

I have seen and done many things in my years on this blessed orb. I toured cities large and small as a gangsta rapper, collecting undergarments of all shapes and sizes. I sailed to ports both glorious and grimy with the merchant marines. I worked at a vineyard in Tuscany, stomping grapes until my legs were stained a pleasing shade of lavender. And then, after my jailhouse religious awakening, I took my hajj pilgrimage, where I joined a sea of other white-clad canines in the sacred Stoning of the Devil ritual. For good measure, and to show him who's boss, I left Satan with an eyeful of urine.

Yes, my flock, I have been fortunate to behold many wondrous sights. But until recently, I had never known the singular sensation of having a toad, filled with religious fervor, launch itself onto my head.

It is always nice to know that my teachings have made an impact.

The robotic menace

Part II of a two-part suspense-filled epic

The roaring infidel was almost upon me. "This robot sucks," I thought, noting the vacuum effect pulling at my fur. As the Roomba's spinning brushes slammed into my legs, I sprang upward and pounced, crashing down on the power button just before the machine could eat Wendell's curly tail. The Roomba fell silent, defeated like all the other infidels who had dared to cross the ayatollah. Triumphant, I strode to the kitchen to retrieve my ceremonial banana hook.

As I rummaged through the cabinets, the humans approached their fallen machine. Mother lifted it and began to disassemble it. "Yes!" I exclaimed, "tear it limb from evil robotic limb!" Then she turned its rear compartment over, and out spilled enough fur for three pug decoys. My already-wide eyes widened, and Allah placed a metaphorical light bulb above my silky-smooth head.



A vision of the ancient terracotta army of the first Qin emperor popped into my head. Yes, it all made sense now. This robot, despite its outwardly menacing appearance, was simply part of God's plan. With this automated fur-gathering device, I now had the means to build a grand hall of pug decoys exceeding any creation of man. "Allahu akbar!" I exclaimed, before moving to make amends with the Roomba for my hasty attack.


"Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto."