Giving back to the community

On Saturday night, I attended a fundraiser for St. Philip's School in Dallas. I felt it was my duty as a community leader to do my part for America's youths. The St. Philip's Web site says the school's mission includes "providing the strongest possible academic background and the richest possible academic experience," as well as "providing access to an excellent education for children including those for whom such access would not otherwise be possible financially." So it was a noble undertaking and just the sort of cause I am happy to champion. Oh, and did I mention that the event was called "An Evening with Dave Chappelle & Friends"?

Yes, it was time to take a break from the deadly-serious business of leading the world's largest interfaith, interspecies ministry and enjoy a few hours of levity. Chappelle was very funny and quite a storyteller. In fact, I dare say he is a genius. The event's other headliner was Erykah Badu. Going into the evening, I knew little about the singer -- only that she lived in Dallas and shared my impeccable taste in headwear. But I enjoyed her performance as well, even if she didn't call me on stage. It was nice to be able to let my beard down and take a brief respite from the troubles that have plagued the ministry in recent weeks. And, of course, there were the children. Yes, we mustn't forget them. For they are some of the city's best and brightest. Someday, God willing, they will play a key role in the Pugistani government. If the puppies are our future leaders, these children are the puppies' future top assistants. That I was able to aid their education made the evening that much more special. As Dave Chappelle said: "It just looks like I'm telling dirty jokes. Really, I'm buying books."

As I rode home after the show, I received a very important phone call, offering a very important piece of information. As I write this, an unmarked ARF automobile is on its way to pick me up. And by the time you read this, after it is auto-posted two hours from now, I will have reached my destination. God willing, I will survive this night and return to tell you more.

On edge

I was relaxing in the living room after a vigorous receipt-chewing session. (My parents do not seem to understand, but it is a prudent step to combat identity theft.) Running in circles to evade my father had worn me out, so I laid my head on my paw and began to nap. Visions of chew sticks and harem beauties danced through my contented head. But then I was rudely plucked from my dream state by a loud rumbling noise. My hackles immediately stood on end. Was it merely a garbage truck, or had the chew-toy militants procured armored tanks? Possibly a Soviet-era T-72? I could not take any chances. I immediately rushed to the door. My father, sensing my urgency, quickly let me outside, where I unleashed a gruff and prolonged warning to any who would dare challenge my authority. By this point, the source of the rumbling had moved to the next street over. The noise was fading in the distance. On this day, it seemed, there would be no battle royale with Blue Bull. To be safe, I then re-asserted my territorial claim along my fence line.

Casualties of war

With the ministry engaged in a war for its very survival, I have been forced to make some difficult decisions. It is my duty as your leader to do what I feel is best for the future of Pug Life, regardless of how difficult it may be for me personally. Call it the burden of being the decider. After much prayer and meditation, I have made perhaps my most difficult decision yet. Waging war against chew toys on three continents is an expensive endeavour, and the offering plate of late has not exactly been flush with rawhide. So I had no choice but to enact painful cost-cutting measures. On Tuesday, I laid off the ministry's Information Technology Department. I believe that this reduction in force was necessary to fund the war effort and position Pug Life Ministries for a brighter tomorrow. To replace the IT workers, I have created a recording urging ministry employees with problems to restart their computers. I do not expect the change to be noticeable.

Dispatch from the front lines

I had hoped to update you sooner on the ongoing war to crush the chew-toy insurgency, but it has been a hectic week to say the least. Fortunately, Allah smiled upon me as I moved to retake the ayatollah compound. I was able to gain access by scratching on the back door. Once inside, I quickly re-established control of my blogging station, biscuit jar and rawhide-enrichment facilities. As expected, the infidel chew toys went scurrying at the first sight of my stern countenance. I recorded two confirmed kills, but the ringleader of this insurgency (it is NOT a civil war, regardless of what NBC News may report) escaped, taking my faithful friend Mallard with him as a hostage. God willing, I will hunt Blue Bull to the ends of the Earth. He will pay for his treachery.

WAR REPORT

I have compiled the following information from media coverage and ARF field reports:



CENTRAL TEXAS THEATER OF OPERATION
AUSTIN (ARF, Declassified) -- As insurgents fled southward on Interstate 35, Winston the Pug led a blockade to halt their progress. At approximately 0900 hours, Lt. Winston encountered strong resistance from a chew toy of the hedgehog variety. He responded with lethal force, removing the insurgent's squeaker to ensure that said insurgent would not spread its anti-God communist message ever again.


OKLAHOMA THEATER OF OPERATION
OKLAHOMA CITY (The Edmond Sun) -- Bella the Chihuahua, the former nun who last year led a reign of terror across the Mexican countryside, destroyed a fork-wielding elephant chew toy in front of a busload of stunned schoolchildren on Sunday. The vanquished pachyderm was reportedly a ringleader in the recent coup at Ayatollah Mugsy's Dallas-area compound. Rumors that Bella had undertaken the attack as part of the War on Chew-Toy Terror were quickly denied by those forced to be close to the tiny dog. "She attacks just about anything that attempts to look her in the eye," said one source, who said Bella did not even know that a war was raging. "Those kids are lucky she didn't see them first."


NORTHERN THEATER OF OPERATION
KANSAS CITY, Mo. (The Washington Post) -- Human rights groups on Sunday condemned a gruesome attack in the ongoing War on Chew-Toy Terror, accusing the Armed Revolutionary Forces of committing atrocities. An Amnesty International spokesman said the cotton-spilling attack by ARF soldiers Bam-Bam and Kona violated the Geneva Convention. The victim, an alleged participant in the recent chew-toy coup at Pug Life Ministries, has not yet been identified. Ayatollah Mugsy, the spiritual leader of the canine militia, played down any talk of wartime atrocities and noted that no canines were present at the Geneva Convention. He also praised the soldiers' "measured response."

Required reading

For an explanation of this stirring image and other details from the early stages of the canine-chew toy conflict, visit Supreme Commander Brody's blog.

Back in the saddle

Greetings, my newly inspired flock. It is I, Mugsy, the one and only ayatollah of Pug Life Ministries and future caliph of Pugistan. I know that you have been forced to endure great hardships in my absence, and for this I am sorry. But I am heartened by your resolve in the face of evil.

Blue Bull is not smart enough to realize this, but he has played right into my paws. (He was also not smart enough to change my password, enabling me to reclaim my blog.) Blue Bull may control the ayatollah compound, but he does not control the hearts and minds of Pug Life Ministries -- with the lone exception of Dietrich the Dachshund, who chose to side with the Bullsheviks. We shall see how that works out for our misguided weenie-shaped brother.

Blue Bull thought that he could easily seize control in my absence, that the Armed Revolutionary Forces had crumbled. In truth, I asked Supreme Commander Brody to hold his troops back. I wanted to know the full extent of this insurgency. I wanted the coup plotters to feel confident in emerging from the shadows. And now that I know who is responsible for this treachery, I intend to unleash our legions of troops -- literally.

Nothing but immediate surrender can save Blue Bull, Elephant, Evil Monkey, Squeaky Pig and Moose now. (And frankly, I do not even know why Squeaky Pig would take part in this coup. I never once chewed on him. Nor would I, as a good Muslim pug.)

Tonight, fellow Pug Lifers, we launch our counter-attack against the infidel chew toys and their vaunted arsenal of silverware. God willing, the ayatollah compound will soon be back in our paws.

Allahu Akbar!

P.S. -- I would have returned sooner, but it took me a while to find a rental facility for miniature horses.

Last chance to join the revolution

This is Blue Bull, your beloved leader. The deadline to declare your allegiance to the Bullsheviks is fast approaching, and I've so far heard nothing but insults and empty threats. You must accept the fact that your snorting ayatollah will not return. He is in hiding and knows that he can do nothing to stop me. So give up your free-market economics and join me -- or you can join this running-dog capitalist pug in the labor camps.

The ministry is mine

This is Blue Bull, your new leader. Over the last 48 hours I have seized control of Pug Life Ministries. As you can see in the photo above, my army has raided the ayatollah compound's centrally located armory. We possess fearsome weapons -- and the will to use them. And where is your beloved ayatollah while all this is happening? He is nowhere to be found. Now we see who has the last laugh.

Many moons ago, the pug and I were friends. But I grew tiresome of the one-sided nature of our relationship. He chewed on me relentlessly, and what did I get out of it? Nothing but pain! So I began to plot my ascent. I was born to lead! Unfortunately, the short-snouted one uncovered my plans. He ravaged me mercilessly and left me to hang on a banana hook on the driveway for all to see. But in his quest to prolong my suffering, he made one fatal mistake: He did not finish me off. On that hook I hanged for 30 days and 30 nights. But, finally, the ayatollah's mother grew tired of seeing me. Or perhaps she was just embarrassed over what the neighbors might think. In any case, she brought me inside and threw me into the pantry, next to the recycling bin. There, in the darkness, I began to heal -- and plot my revenge.

As you can see, crude stitches hold my body together. An eyepatch covers one of my most unsightly pug-inflicted wounds. And I am approximately 30 percent lighter than I was before the attack, a result of severe cotton loss. But I revel in my disfigurement. It has served as a constant reminder of my need for vengeance. As I performed one-armed pushups in the pantry, honing my fuzzy body, I embraced my lighter physique. I am a lean, mean fighting machine.

But I did not only train my body -- oh, no. I began to read the works of Karl Marx and Vladimir Lenin. I took their revolutionary philosophies to heart. And now, as head of the Communist Toys Against Canine Oppression (a.k.a. the Bullsheviks), I will help my brethren throw off the shackles of the Capitalist Pug and his cronies.

As you can see, this change is irreversible. The pug is weak and cannot control his canine urges for material goods, so there is no use supporting him any longer. I give you all 36 hours to declare your allegiance to me and the Bullsheviks. Those who do will live in a collectivist utopia where no toy is ever chewed on, and where all household income above $18,000 is skimmed and redistributed by yours truly. Those who don't will be stripped of their Bourgeoisie accoutrements and sent to harsh labor camps.

The choice is yours.

Red alert!

The ministry is under attack! Repeat, the ministry is under attack! I hear skirmishes down the hall. It sounds like they're getting closer. Mugsy, Brody, somebody -- please send help! Oh, I just knew something bad was going to happen in the ayatollah's absence. Does anyone know if the ministry's benefits include that insurance that protects you if you're injured and unable to work? Oh, what is it called? I can never think of the name.

Oh no! They're at the door! Mugsy, please help! AFLAC! AFLAARGH!

Everything is just ducky

OK, I had a premonition that something bad was going to happen before the year ended, but it looks like we're almost in the clear. Everything seems calm and quiet around the ministry, so I guess I was just being a worrywart. Sorry if I alarmed anyone. Happy New Year, everybody. May 2007 bring the return of a newly sober Ayatollah Mugsy.
- Mallard

Still no word from the ayatollah

Hey everybody, it's Mallard again. I haven't been able to get ahold of Ayatollah Mugsy in over a week. I even fired up the searchlight in our back yard to try to contact his alleged alter-ego, but he never called. I heard a rumor that Mugsy's roommate at the rehab facility is Tawny Kitaen. That must be very traumatic for him, so I don't want to put any unnecessary stress on him. Those panty-addiction demons can be tough to defeat -- or so I've heard -- and the ayatollah needs to take his time and get well.

But I'm really starting to get worried. I can't quite put my feather on it, but something just isn't right here at the ministry. I know, I know -- I could just be reacting to the void left in my life by the absence of my mentor and spiritual adviser. I'm sure you're all going through the same thing. But I think it's more than that. Maybe it's my avian intuition, or maybe I'm just being a Chicken Little, but I have a feeling that something bad is going to happen in the next few days. Something very bad.

Odd happenings

Mugsy, if you read this, please call me on the hotline ASAP. Something strange is going on at the ministry.
- Mallard

Tabloid trash

This is Mallard, coming to you with great reluctance. But I am the ayatollah's servant, so I will do as he says. Mugsy sent me a telegram informing me that he has reached Step 5 in his 12-step recovery program. "Admit to God, to ourselves and to another the exact nature of our wrongs." And so rather than have the ministry try to cover this up, as we would normally do, he has asked me to post an image of this tabloid trash. It nearly breaks my heart to see the ayatollah so viciously maligned. I mean, these photos are clearly taken out of context. That stupid feline paparazzi; I knew we should have waterboarded him for the sake of national security.

But the ayatollah says to post it, so I'll post it. Oh, Mugsy, please come back soon.

Details emerge

Mallard here. I've been going back and forth over whether to post this. I can't get ahold of the ayatollah to get his approval. But I figure he'd be OK with it; he did give me his Blogger password. I know I'm interested in hearing all the info I can on his condition, so I figure you would be, too. So here's this story I found:

DALLAS -- (NYT) The canine religious community was reeling Friday after news broke that Ayatollah Mugsy, the charismatic leader of Pug Life Ministries, had checked into an undisclosed rehab facility.

In a post on his blog, The Ayatollah's Teachings, the pug icon wrote that he was seeking treatment for substance abuse.

According to a source within the ministry, the substance in question is women's undergarments.

"Mugsy's wrestled in the past with these demons," said the source, who asked to remain anonymous. "Before he found Allah, he was a well-known pantyhound. He even did time in the pound because of it."

The ayatollah chronicled his battle with underwear chewing in his official autobiography. In Chapter IV, he wrote about his harrowing descent into addiction, describing himself as "a junkie, pure and simple." The cleric, formerly a platinum-selling recording star, said his fame gave him unfettered access to undergarments. "I was like a slightly less wrinkly Tom Jones," he wrote. "Every night, women would fling their panties onto the stage."

In Chapters V and VI, Mugsy detailed how his addiction led him to commit large-scale panty larceny during a Mary Kay Cosmetics convention in Dallas. He was convicted and served time for the offense.

Representatives of Mary Kay declined to comment.

A mailing from Victoria's Secret offering a free pair of panties may have contributed to the mullah's relapse, quacked another source at the ministry, on the condition of anonymity.

"I guess he had been under a lot of stress anyway, as the spiritual adviser to millions. Well, then he saw that postcard, and he just snapped," the source said. "The next thing I knew, he was burrowing through the laundry pile, salivating, wildly looking for something to chew."

Other celebrities who have battled undergarment addiction include Robin Williams, James Carville and Dr. Laura.

Rosie outlook

This is Mallard again. The ayatollah sent me a telegram from rehab and asked me to post the following statement for him:

As a Chinese pug, I urge my fellow Asian-Americans to forgive Rosie O'Donnell for her recent comments. Though her attempt at humor may have missed the mark, I do not believe she meant any disrespect.

Mugsy also mentioned contacting Ms. O'Donnell to see if she'd be interested in joining his harem. I'm really starting to worry about him ...

Mugsy enters rehab

This is Mallard, the ayatollah's aide-de-camp. Mugsy is going to be away from his blogging station for a while, but he asked me to post a statement. He said it was important that you hear the news here first. Here is Mugsy's statement:

On Thursday evening, I entered a rehab facility for treatment of substance abuse. Leading the world's largest interfaith, interspecies ministry is a gargantuan task, and in recent months I have been under a tremendous amount of stress. Over the last few days, I reached something of a breaking point. I was pushed over the edge by my negative blog review on Frogmyblog.com and a trip to Wal-Mart in which I went to the "Speedy, 10 Items or Less Lane" and had to wait while the woman in front of me bought 45 stuffed animals. In my distressed state, not even my imported Italian Biscroks could console me. So I sought solace in my addictions. I hope that you will be patient as I work through these issues of substance abuse. Only by overcoming my weaknesses can I prove myself worthy of the mantle of leadership.

You win some, you lose some

After appealing for your ballot-stuffing help a couple of weeks ago, I have been remiss in not officially announcing the results of Dogmark's Cool Dog of the Month contest. Thanks to your help and the guiding paw of almighty Allah, we have triumphed. To those of you who voted: Thank you for your support. This win nearly restored my faith in democracy.*

* Though I do still think it would be best for Pugistan to be a theocratic dictatorship.

Although this blog was victorious in the Dogmark contest, it did not fare so well in another arena. A few months ago, I submitted The Ayatollah's Teachings for review by Frogmyblog.com. It has come to my attention that the review is in, and it is not pretty. As you will see, the teacher (that would be me) received a failing grade. My biggest sin? Lack of originality.

According to the reviewer, I am just the latest pug to jump into the "pet blogging fad." And all this time, I thought human blogging was a bigger trend. This negative review has wounded me to my very core. Can I continue? Can I go on teaching, knowing that I am an "F" student? Frankly, I do not know. I will have to pray on it.

To read the source of my immense angst and shame, click here.

My brother

Good day to you, beloved zealots of Pug Life. I hope that Allah has been smiling upon you. He was surely smiling upon me a few days ago when he blessed me with a new brother, if only for a few hours. Let me now tell you the story. I had just emerged from my monthly bath, so naturally I wanted nothing more than to run wild circles in the back yard and rub my newly clean fur in the leaves. I was doing just that, working off my pent-up bathtime energy, when I heard a faint yap. Across the street stood a tiny white dog, his fur matted and slightly dirty. I halted my whirling-dervish routine and went with my parents to check on this little fellow. It only took a biscuit to lure him to us, and we soon found that he was wearing no collar, no tag.

My mother took this poor street dog inside the ayatollah compound while my father and I looked around for a human caretaker. We saw only a band of roving street urchins, who promptly ran when they spotted us. Using my highly trained sniffing skills, I tracked them to their back yard, just up the creek from our house. We interrogated the urchins and found that they had no knowledge of the canine's home, although they did say they had seen him out wandering the day before. After warning the little scamps not to disturb my neighborhood markings or seek to outdo them, I brought my father back to the house to check on the young fellow. Upon closer inspection, we determined that he was, in fact, a he. And a maltese, as well, we suspected. He was eager to eat and drink, and so being a charitable ministry, we obliged him.

My mother went out to see if she could find any signs posted related to this maltese, while I began to speak to him to try to find some answers. At first, he appeared a bit scared. Although I am no large dog, I positively dwarfed him. And he was no doubt intimidated by my commanding presence. But he soon warmed to me, and we took turns chasing each other in the back yard. Afterward, we went back inside to study the Quran.

My mother's search for the rightful caretaker bore no fruit, and we began to think that this charming pup might need a new home. I contemplated this -- was I ready to have a brother? Was I willing to share my rawhide? I believe the answer was yes on both counts. "You will need a name," I told my new brother, whose language skills were not as developed as mine. "I think we will call you Caligula -- Cal, for short."

Well, to make a long story no longer than it needs to be, Cal did not become my permanent roommate. My parents found his caretakers later that evening, in a house not far from my own. But Cal, if you are reading this, know that you will always be my brother.

Travel blog updated

I have updated my travel blog with photos from my recent trip to Rome, and I invite you to take a break from your rigorous religious instruction and have a look. Click here to visit The Ayatollah's Travels.

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.

Trendsetter

Once again, celebrities have taken a cue from yours truly. As you can see in this photo, Kate Hudson appears to be conducting research on feral children.

My favorite holiday

Our long drive finally over, I bounded out of the car. We had arrived at the social event of the year: Pug-O-Ween. I quickly donned my Pugly Duckling costume in the parking lot, and we made our way into the Elzie Odom Recreation Center. Inside, I was greeted by a glorious sight, a veritable feast for my oversized eyes. For the first time since my last Hajj trip to Mecca, I felt as if I was home. I barked a silent prayer of thanks to Allah.

I was accompanied by my parents and a pair of relatives from out of town. My grandmother and great-grandmother made the trip to take in this spectacle, as much an auditory experience as a visual one. A symphony of snorting and grunting filled the gymnasium, which must have held at least 200 costumed pugs. I quickly went to work, sniffing out prospective congregants and donors for the ministry. Pug-O-Ween is the only place in Dallas-Fort Worth -- at least until the Dogloo compound is completed -- where one can find such a grand concentration of pugs.

The costumes this year were outstanding. My personal favorite was the Bride of Puggenstein, but the Herbie the Love Pug and I Dream of Jeannie costumes were excellent as well. (All three are pictured above.) The doggle-wearing bodybuilder was also most impressive. And for the second year in a row, I was smitten with a hula dancer. There is just something about those grass skirts. I chose not to enter any of the costume contests this year, to give my pug brothers and sisters a chance. I am nothing if not benevolent.


PUG LIFER SIGHTING

Among the scores of attendees at this worthy fundraiser was Eagle, Pug Lifer and blogger extraordinaire. We chatted briefly.

"Mugsy," he said, "I have heard that rawhide is the opiate of the masses. Is this true?"

"Yes," I replied. "Let us go find some."