Aquapug

With the summer coming to a close, many area pools have welcomed dogs for a day. The practice is not ideal -- I would certainly prefer that we canines have the freedom to swim whenever we please. But it's a start on the road to greater canine civil rights. Wendell recently attended one of these events at Hawaiian Falls water park in Garland, where he got to swim in a wave pool and ride with father on an inner tube around the lazy river. Wendell and I had earlier attended a dog day at a community pool in Carrollton, where Wendell splashed about and I waded in up to my six-pack abs -- to the surprise of my parents. For the Hawaiian Falls trip, they decided to leave me at home so that Wendell wouldn't be distracted by my presence. He tends to want to stay close to me when I'm around, and I'm not much of a swimmer. I took the afternoon to work on my memoirs and this weekend's sermon. Here's what Wendell did:

Wendell would swim in the mini-wave pool to a ledge out in the middle, where he could catch his breath. Then, urged on by our parents, he would dive in ...

... and splash down.

Then he'd swim back to the shallow end and find a dog or person to try to follow. He is, after all, still a puppy.

After he got tired of swimming, we met up with some of the good people from DFW Pug Rescue, who gave Wendell a snazzy bandanna. They told us that Pug-O-Ween is coming up the last Sunday of October, so Wendell and I have been brainstorming costume ideas. Any suggestions?

Mugsy gets long-winded on financial crisis

These are extraordinary times, my flock. Thursday evening, Washington Mutual became the latest victim of America's financial crisis. In Washington, lawmakers appeared to have in place a deal for a massive handout of borrowed funds from future, perhaps yet unborn taxpayers. But it all seemed to fall apart following a meeting of the minds at the White House.

Of all the high-stakes machinations of recent days, the most remarkable display came when a presidential candidate said the dire economic situation had compelled him to suspend his campaign. (He did not suspend his media-interview stump speeches, or his fundraising. But this is, I'm certain he would say, beside the point.) In this most remarkable of moves, he sought to equate a presidential election -- and one of the few forums in which voters can actually get an unfiltered view of the candidates, untainted by the distortions of campaign ads -- with petty politics. While finding a solution for the economic meltdown and credit crunch is crucial, I tend to believe that determining who will lead this country for the next four years is fairly important, too. But perhaps I am just peculiar in that way.

So where does the ministry stand on this bailout business? It is hard to say. On the one paw, I have a significant portion of my net worth tied up in stock investments and rawhide -- and both have been rapidly depleted in recent weeks. If a bailout could stabilize the financial markets and restore some luster to my portfolio, I might be inclined to support it. On the other paw, I resent the idea of taxpayers having to prop up multi-billion-dollar businesses that made irresponsible decisions in the interest of inflating their share prices and putting ill-gotten gains in the pockets of high-level executives.

So there are no easy answers. Perhaps I shall hedge my bets and support a bailout of some sort while once again ducking the IRS.

Mugsy issues fatwa

Too many times have I narrowly escaped disaster, swerving or stopping just in time. Too many times have I shaken my furry paw-fist in indignation. The infidels who have stoked my road-rage have left me no choice but to issue a fatwa! When going through an intersection with dual turn lanes, the car in the inside lane must remain in its inside lane. This is not only the law, it is required by canine Islam! Do not anger Allah with your wide-turning encroachment; drive righteously. The next infidel whose wide turning puts him on a collision course with the ayatollahmobile will be stripped of his driving privileges and his pants and left at the roadside.

Awaiting my check

Greetings, my flock. I have spent the last two days corresponding with the White House and Treasury Department as I pursued a bailout check for the ministry. I heard that the American taxpayers were generously giving away hundreds of billions of dollars, so naturally I wanted a piece of the action to pay off the mortgage on the ayatollah compound. Unfortunately, I was told that citizens who chose slowly but steadily appreciating homes that they could actually afford were out of luck.

This was most disheartening, but I hear there is actually a pit bull on one of the presidential tickets. Perhaps, God willing, she will be more sensitive to the needs of America's fiscally responsible canines.

Best Buddy

I hereby present the coveted Pug Life Medal of Valor to Buddy the German Shepherd, who saved his human caretaker's life by calling 911 when the man had a seizure. And police said this wasn't the first time the trained assistance dog had been there for Joe Stalnaker. Buddy had previously made two other 911 calls when Stalnaker was having seizures.

On a recording of the 911 call, Buddy is heard whimpering and barking after the dispatcher in Scottsdale, Ariz., answers and repeatedly asks if the caller needs help. "Hello, this is 911. Hello ... Can you hear me? Is there somebody there you can give the phone to?" says the dispatcher. Despite the dispatcher's lack of canine language training, Buddy's call was successful. Stalnaker's address was flagged in Scottsdale's system with a notification that the 18-month-old Buddy could call 911 when the owner was incapacitated.

For his quick thinking, heroism and superior phone skills, Buddy is deserving of this prestigious medal -- the ministry's highest civilian honor. A grateful canine nation thanks you, Buddy. Long may you wag.

The great Geraldo

Praise be to Geraldo Rivera, for risking life, limb and his iconic mustache to keep us informed on Hurricane Ike. Do you remember all the sayings about Chuck Norris that started to appear on the Internet a few years ago? Those apply to Geraldo, as well.

Death from above

This one's for mother.

A walk and a surprise

It was a lovely evening. Mother arrived home from work, earlier than usual, and said the magical "W" word: Walk. Wendell sprang from his pillow and ran a quick circle, while I was more nonchalant but no less giddy. In short order, we were both tethered to our leashes and heading out the door. The smells of the neighborhood were magnificent, as usual. I tend to savor each scent, believing that every aroma is a blessing from Allah. Wendell is more of a racer, intent on covering as much ground as possible. As you might imagine, the elder pug's methods generally win out. Just across the bridge, I found a nice patch of grass. "Come, Wendell," I instructed. "Let us pay special attention to the scents here. You have much to learn." With that, we lowered our noses to the grass and began to make our rounds. As I sniffed, I came across a colony of large ants and shared with them a brief sermon and my latest fatwas. Roughly 90 percent of the insects converted to canine Islam on the spot, and the other 10 percent, well, I sensed that they were trouble-makers and wouldn't contribute any rawhide to the offering plate, anyway. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw mother sweeping something off her foot. "Come on, pugs," she said. "Let's go." Rather than resist the gentle pull of the leash, I went along. It had been a good walk, and I could use a drink.

Back at the ayatollah compound, I took my place on the recliner and began to meditate. I was nearing a dreamlike state when I sensed a fellow creature near me. Moving my head to the side, I spied a pair of luscious, pouting lips. "Angelina," I barked, still half-asleep, "I see that my harem invitation has been well-received. Welcome to the ... Ack!" I nearly jumped out of my fur. The massive-lipped woman before me was not a Hollywood harem prospect at all. Instead, it was my mother, suffering the effects of an acute allergic reaction. Her face was puffy and red, and hives had broken out all over her body. Her feet were swollen to mammoth proportions. "Mugsy," she said, "I've got to go to the emergency room."

Don't fear, my flock. Mother is now home, and thanks to some Benadryl and steroids, she is feeling much better. And as for that aforementioned 10 percent of ne'er-do-well ants who had the audacity to attack my mother, know that they will be made an example of as a warning to other infidel bugs in the neighborhood. Just as soon as I find enough tiny banana hooks to go around.

Back in action

You may have noticed that Wendell's Olympic coverage abruptly ended. He did not fill you in on Eagle the pug's historic three gold medals in dog-paddling. Nor did he tell you about the Pugistani basketball team's embarrassing defeat against the U.S., brought about by our team's lack of size after our lone Great Dane got into foul trouble. As it turns out, young Wendell got too involved in partying at the Olympic village, and he completely forgot to post on the blog. This confirmed my long-held belief that Wendell suffers from attention-deficit disorder. The ministry apologizes for any inconvenience, and we will certainly be more cautious in the future about assigning such an important task to a puppy.




The ayatollah family recently returned from a trip to the beautiful city of San Francisco, where I addressed a convention of sea lion imams. As you may recall, hundreds of the marine mammals pledged their allegiance to Pug Life Ministries late last year. Since then, I have stayed in contact with the sea lions, offering them spiritual guidance and strengthening our alliance. We bark the same language, so it is only natural that we help each other out. God willing, the sea lions will govern the western province of Pugistan in short order.

Michael Phelps suffers stunning loss

BEIJING (AP) -- Michael Phelps' bid for a record ninth gold medal in the Beijing Olympics was foiled early Sunday by Eagle the Pug, who set a world record in the 100-meter dog paddle.

Phelps was undefeated in these Games before he went up against the Texas pug, who was swimming as a member of the Pugistani team. Eagle had actually posted better times than Phelps in two previous races -- the 200-meter freestyle and 100-meter butterfly -- but was disqualified because of improper form.

Eagle was in his element in the dog paddle, however, finishing the race in 1 minute, 35 seconds to top his previous world record by 1.5 seconds. Analysts noted that Eagle pulled off the upset win despite being the furriest competitor in the otherwise clean-shaven field.

Eagle and his brothers Ranger and Flyer are the heavy favorites in Monday's 3x100-meter dog paddle relay, which could make Eagle the first two-time medalist from the breakaway republic of Pugistan. In addition to swimming the anchor leg for the team, Eagle is also the coach.

Ayatollah Mugsy, the iron-pawed ruler of Pugistan and supreme ayatollah of Pug Life Ministries, released a statement praising Eagle as a national hero. "In the true spirit of amateur athletics, all who witnessed this amazing feat will surely be moved to donate to the ministry's coffers," Mugsy said.

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WATCH THE VIDEO to see Eagle barking orders during the relay team's training.

Wendell goes for the gold

BEIJING (AP) -- Shaking off an injured paw and a poor start, Wendell the Pug roared back Saturday to win the first gold medal for Pugistan in the 100-meter run.

Wendell, the younger brother of religious icon Ayatollah Mugsy, tore off his plastic neck cone as he walked to the starting blocks, showing no ill effects from a recent foot infection. The more than 90,000 fans in attendance roared in approval as Wendell began to yip at his competitors in an apparent bid to psych them out.

After the race began, Wendell ran in three tight circles around the starting line, falling behind by at least 15 meters. But then he tucked his tail and took off like a rocket, blazing past silver-medalist Usain Bolt of Jamaica and shattering the world record with a time of 8 seconds.

Bronze medalist Richard Thompson of Trinidad and Tobago filed a protest after the race, alleging that Wendell was too young to compete. The dog's official Pugistani birth certificate, which bore a fresh price tag from Kinko's, indicated that he was 38 years old, but observers pointed to ample evidence that Wendell was still a puppy. Still, the International Olympic Committee, known for turning a blind eye to evidence of rules violations, was expected to rule in Wendell's favor.

"The IOC made no move against the Chinese women's gymnastics team," said TV broadcaster Mary Carillo, referring to another age scandal at these Olympic Games. "And if you recall the old East German women's teams, the IOC overlooked clues like 5 o'clock shadow and bulging adam's apples. I think Wendell's medal is safe."

As Wendell walked to the podium to accept his medal, there was a brief controversy over which song to play. Pugistan, a disputed territory in the American Southwest, does not have a formal national anthem. The nation's ruling junta ultimately decided on "Dogs Barking Jingle Bells" as Pugistan's temporary anthem.

Wendell accepted his medal and then raised his right paw in a black-pug power salute. It was a show of defiance, and an announcement that Pugistan had arrived on the international sporting stage.

Bad news for Pugistan?

BEIJING (AP) -- One of the leading gold-medal contenders for the upstart Pugistani Olympic delegation was rumored to be ailing Friday, a day ahead of his bid to win the 100-meter dash.


An undated photo showing 1-year-old sprinter Wendell with a cone around his neck appeared in China's state-run media Friday. It was reported that Wendell may have had a minor foot injury that could keep him from competing. The pug, known for his blazing speed, had been considered the top challenger to American Tyson Gay in the event.


The Pugistani Olympic Committee, led by the enigmatic Ayatollah Mugsy, declined to comment. But experts said Wendell's medal hopes could take a big hit if he isn't fully healed by race time.


"I've got major concerns for Wendell," said Carl Lewis, a former track star and 10-time Olympic medalist. "That cone would severely impact his aerodynamic profile."

Phelps spanks the competition, and Bush ... um ...

Hi, everybody. Wendell here with your Olympics update. Michael Phelps is the big story so far, winning a record 11th gold medal. And he's not done yet. Can he finish the sweep and grab eight gold medals in these Summer Games? Only time will tell -- but I hear there's some tough competition ahead. The small Pugistani delegation has yet to have its first competitor, but when we do, watch out. Oh, and Mugsy told me to fill you in on all the big news out of Beijing, but .. I don't know what President Bush was up to. You'll have to write your own caption for this one.

And the first gold medal goes to ...

Hey, everybody. Wendell here. Big Brother Mugsy asked me to keep an eye on the Olympics and post all the major stories here, so for the duration of the Games, I'll be reporting to you from Beijing. The first gold medal has already been awarded -- to a human. Katerina Emmons (above) from the Czech Republic won the 10-meter air rifle competition. The Pugistani delegation thought the Olympic Games were just for actual sports and not children's toys, so we didn't have an athlete in this event. That's OK, though. Soon enough, we'll get in on the action. Although Emmons captured the gold, the biggest story out of this event came when the gold-medal favorite, American Ralphie Parker, shot his eye out. Get well soon, kid.

Abundant excess

Even if I were allowed to crawl into my sizable food bin (and don't think I haven't tried), I could not possibly be more bloated than the opening ceremony of the Olympics.

Let the Games begin

The Quran warns us against being prideful, my flock. And so today is a difficult day for me. As the Summer Olympics open in the ancestral homeland of the Chinese pug, I cannot help but feel proud of the first-ever Pugistani delegation to the Games. Reaching this point has not been easy. There was political intrigue, as rival nations tried to exclude our canine brothers from the competition. And there were allegations of performance-enhancing drugs. The tension in the air at yesterday's IOC meeting was so thick that you could cut it with a knife -- much like the actual, soot-filled air of Beijing. But I made my final appeal, and the Olympic committee voted to grant the Pugistani delegation full access. Allahu akbar! God willing, our collars will soon be weighted down with gold medals.

Garage sale: Packing it in

Another infidel driveby! We can take no more, my flock. We are dragging our five items of actual value back into the garage. Any who drive by for the rest of the day will find a driveway full of free items. Please, take it. Take it all ...

This has been Ayatollah Mugsy, bringing you a historic live blogging event. Until next time, you stay classy, Pugistan.

Garage sale: The blue suitcase

Nearly every woman who stops takes a look at our little blue suitcase box, which can be had for the low, low price of only $1. But they all put it down and move along. I blame the weak economy and depleted value of the dollar. Garage sales, it seems, are the silent victims of this recession. If only we could truck our goods to Canada to take advantage of the strong loonie ...

Garage sale: Great success!

A kindly old woman took pity on us and purchased $7 worth of fine merchandise. This will go straight to the Dogloo mosque fund. Only $999,999,993 to go.

Garage sale: Rejected

Not only did they buy nothing, but the little girl refused to say goodbye. I sense that the ducks across the street are laughing at us.

Garage sale: Dry spell ending?

Yes! Someone stopped! Praise Allah!!

Garage sale: Economics lesson

Making $5 an hour: Not good.

Making $5 an hour in 100-degree heat: Even worse.

Someday, the humans will figure this out.

Garage sale: Mugsy condemns drive-bys

They slow down, 7 mph, or perhaps 5. They gaze down their noses as they round the corner. Then they speed away, insulting us with their exhaust fumes. Infidels ...

Garage sale: Bargains go unnoticed

We are nearly four hours in, and still nobody has claimed any of our free items. That is right, my flock, the price tags on our treadmill and rickety weight bench both simply say "free." Could the ministry possibly be any more generous? Will I have to start taping dollar bills to these items to make it worthwhile for someone to claim them? Because I am not above such tactics.

Allah, we pray that we do not have to lug this junk, er, these treasures back inside.

Garage sale: The chicken dance

We have just sold a set of glassware. After some tense negotiations, we agreed to go from $3 to $2. This latest pair of ladies was accompanied by two children, who found our stuffed chicken that dances and plays the chicken dance to be immensely entertaining. Unfortunately, the elders did not take notice. For only $2, they could have given their children a lifetime of laughs. But they instead chose to ignore the cheers of pure joy and herded their now heartbroken girls back into their pickup truck.

We know who won't be winning Pug Life's Parent of the Year Award.

Mugsy experiments with live blogging

You may have seen, from time to time, live blogging from major events. The Oscars, the Super Bowl, a presidential inauguration -- all have had their share of play-by-play analysis posted live on the Web. Now, Pug Life Ministries brings you a first: live blogging from a garage sale.

Stay tuned; excitement surely awaits.

Mugsy endorses candidate

I don't usually get involved in partisan politics on this blog, but I am going to make an exception. At this point in our nation's history, the stakes are too high for me to remain silent. There is one candidate and one candidate alone with the ability to excite us, with the potential to renew our faith in the democratic process. He is handsome and charismatic, brimming with youthful vigor. His ideas are fresh. A relative political newcomer, he is free of the corruption and cynicism that so often permeate the political process. And he can help break down boundaries that have stood in this country for far too long.

Today, my flock, I offer my endorsement to the one and only Willie Bean Roscoe P. Coltrane. This 7-year-old Labrador retriever is running for mayor of Fairhope, Ala. And although his candidacy started as a joke, the Coltrane train is now on the tracks and picking up steam. My sources tell me that residents of Fairhope are growing more excited by the day. They are intrigued by the idea of canine rule. Look at the current state of the economy -- could canines have done any worse? Fill the House, Senate and White House with dogs, and I guarantee you one thing at the very least: They would not approve a half-trillion-dollar deficit like the one projected for 2009.

Said one wise Fairhope resident of the furry mayor-in-waiting, "He doesn't have any skeletons in his closet. He's eaten them all."

Change is in the air, my flock. Embrace it. Embrace the estimable Willie Bean Roscoe P. Coltrane.

Mugsy issues fatwa

Too many times have I been distracted. A flash of light shatters the darkness, drawing my gaze away from the big screen and onto the tiny screen of a cell phone. And for what -- an insignificant text message? "No more!" I say. The infidels at the movie theater have left me no choice but to issue a fatwa!

Henceforth under canine Islam, it is strictly forbidden to use a cell phone for any purpose in a theater while the movie is showing. If your text-message conversation is truly more interesting than the film you paid $9 to see, then step outside and spare the rest of us your annoying presence. Violators will forfeit their thumbs.

Temptation is everywhere

Dallas is in the midst of its annual Mary Kay convention, and longtime students of this blog know what that means: Temptation. But I have been strong, my flock. God willing, I will make it to Aug. 2 -- when the parade of pink Cadillacs finally leaves town -- without repeating the mistakes of my past.

Lost ring? I pity the Foo

Though my father swam a dozen or so laps, scouring the bottom of the pool, our efforts to retrieve mother's wedding ring were unsuccessful. He found only a plastic ring, the rubber from the leg of a deck chair and two pieces of chewed gum (deposited in the pool in blatant violation of my fatwa at the 2003 Radical Clerics' Convention in Tehran). God willing, their marriage will survive the loss of this ring, with the help of counseling from the ministry.

After our unsuccessful retrieval mission, I went to Oklahoma City for a couple of days. My aunt had tickets to see the Foo Fighters, peace be upon them, and she invited me to go along. This was the third time I had seen the band, dating back to the mid-'90s. This may seem peculiar to you, given the fact that I am a 7-year-old pug. But Allah works in mysterious ways. My first Foo Fighters show was in the historic Cain's Ballroom in Tulsa, a small venue that lacked air conditioning and was stiflingly hot, inspiring an alternate version of the song "Big Me" that has become popular on the bootleg circuit. It was interesting to see how the band had changed from those early days as I watched them Thursday at the cavernous Ford Center, soon to be the home of Oklahoma City's new NBA team.

Singer Dave Grohl first hit it big as drummer for the legendary band Nirvana, whose Pixies-inspired punk sensibilities rejected the trappings of arena rock. Now, the Foo Fighters have embraced such bombast. Thursday's show, which was excellent albeit a bit loud for my aging ears, featured a large entourage of backing musicians and a much-touted triangle solo that was met with a thunderous standing ovation.

I will pass no judgments on the merits of such a style shift except to say that any drum solo exceeding five minutes is probably excessive.