Monday, October 18, 2010

Pug-O-Ween prize

I have returned from my nearly two-week western road trip, during which I attended a canine suffrage conference in Taos, exhibited my artwork at a show in Santa Fe and climbed the tallest sand dune in North America in southern Colorado. But my crowning achievement would come upon my arrival back in North Texas. For before I even set foot in the compound, I made a pilgrimage to Grapevine for the 14th annual Pug-O-Ween. This highest of pug holy days had been marked on my calendar since 2008, because I am just that detail-oriented. (One does not attain the lofty rank of ayatollah without careful planning. I even know what I'll be eating for breakfast three months and six days from today: Iams Weight Management Dog Food. Can you say the same about your breakfast? I didn't think so. Slacker.) 

But not only did I make an appearance at Pug-O-Ween, my flock -- I finally won the ribbon that has eluded me lo these many years. Wendell and I placed third in the grueling Ghoulish Groups category! Allahu akbar! The previous two years, we had been denied a prize, despite mother's visionary innovation of the gnome pug beard in 2008 and father's somewhat less visionary but still visually stunning innovation of the yellow highlighter-colored Viking pug beard in 2009. Both years, we thought we had a chance. But both years, we were denied by a panel of Communist bloc judges who, for whatever reason, felt that "bribery" was somehow wrong. 

Because of these past defeats, we entered 2010 with limited expectations. We knew we would sniff some friends, old and new, and spread the word of Pug Life Ministries, and this was enough for us. So the ribbon was icing on the cake, as the humans like to say. Or, as I call it, Parmesan on the kibble. We were honored to take home a prize at the biggest Pug-O-Ween ever, which attracted nearly 500 pugs (and several other breeds, including my good schnauzer friend Sarge) for the worthy cause of raising money for DFW Pug Rescue

"So what were the costumes?" you must be asking, about to pass out from the sheer suspense. We were warriors from ancient Rome! 

"Carpe Milkbone!"

"He who is brave is free. And hungry."

"Begone from my sidewalk, Thracian scum! 
I will see you die in the arena!"

"I have led legions of pugs and conquered the whole
of Europe. And now I demand payment -- in rawhide!"

I won't lie, my flock. The power that I feel when I don this costume is immense and, as you may have noticed from the progression of the photo captions above, intoxicating. Yesterday evening, shortly after this photo shoot, Wendell and I enslaved several of the neighbors and forced them to battle in our makeshift driveway colosseum for sport. It wasn't until the elderly Jim pulled a hamstring that I realized I might be getting a tad overzealous. Of course, that doesn't mean I'll cancel tonight's bout. But I will definitely find some younger combatants. The grade-schoolers down the street seem flexible enough. 

"Ah, the spoils of victory."


Hank said...

Sir....I bow tuh yer greatness.


Sorella MozzarellaPug said...

Dis wuz deeply moving, Your Holiness. I especially admire your dedication to maintaining your costume. I would not be so accommodating. You are an inspirashun.

Ayatollah Mugsy said...

Bless you, my pugchildren. May Allah ensure that your wrinkle stays clean.

Anonymous said...

one word: WOW. You are quite a shining beacon for all pugs


invisible fence said...

awww poor helios!!!! *hugs and tummy rubs from scout's mom*

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