Say what?

I'm aghast that the NFL actually allows people to buy a Philadelphia Eagles dog jersey with the infidel Michael Vick's name and number on it. I smell a fatwa coming on ...

With a bullet

We were ready to go. We had the directions to the town-hall meeting and a full gas tank in the ayatollahmobile. We had our megaphone to shout down opposing viewpoints in a display of our First Amendment rights. We had our talking points -- a prepared speech on the necessity of any health-care reform including universal veterinary care as well as medical care for chew toys. (True, the latter point is controversial, but it is necessary; the faster the chew toys get stitched up, the faster we can ravage them again.) Yes, Wendell and I were ready to raise a ruckus at tonight's health-care town hall. Until we realized that Wendell's M60 machine gun wouldn't fit in his car crate. So disappointing ...

The running of the Chihuahuas

I attended my first Chihuahua race over the weekend, my flock. I arose early Saturday morning, eager to see the spectacle of 300 pint-sized canines competing for the regional championship and a shot at the world title. As I pulled into the Petco parking lot in North Dallas, I didn't know what to expect. Would pugs be welcome? Would parimutuel wagering be involved? Would there be a tiny jockey on each Chihuahua? These and many more questions would soon be answered.

The crowd was a diverse mix. Though Chihuahuas were naturally most prevalent, many other breeds turned out to show their support. Camera crews were filming the scene, and a purported celebrity was interviewing the winners of each heat. Competitors came from as far away as St. Joseph, Mo., and San Antonio. I neglected to take my camera to properly document the spectacle, but it looked much like the photo above (from a different race locale).

The races began with the Chihuahuas taking their spots behind the starting gates. Each dog had a two-person team, one to hold the dog until the starting gun, and another to wait at the finish line and cheer the competitor on. Before going to the finish line, the human would often show the Chihuahua something to focus on -- a ball, bone or other trinket to motivate the racer. Most of the dogs zeroed in on the finish line with razor-like focus, eager to sprint toward their human. Unfortunately, that focus waned during the lengthy introduction that preceded each race. The emcee went over each dog's name and shared some key biographical information. And by the time the starting gate was finally raised, roughly two dogs per heat remembered that the finish line was their urgent destination. Others ambled about, sniffing one another, walking sideways and usually eventually finding their way to the finish line. Any dog who could gingerly trot in a straight line was likely to finish in the top 3.

None of the Chihuahuas displayed the lightning speed of my younger brother Wendell. But then again, even human sprinter Usain Bolt couldn't hang with the pup in last summer's Olympics. He is one fast dog. I'm convinced that if Wendell had been allowed to run, he would either finish first or dead last -- he does appear to suffer from attention-deficit disorder. But Wendell is a pug, the elite athlete of the animal kingdom, so obviously it would not be a fair competition.

Some have asked whether the infamous Sister Bella took part in the races. I did encourage her to compete, but she was a no-show on race day. It is probably just as well -- sadly, Bella will probably never outrun her demons.

Dirty humans ...

I was forced to suffer the ultimate indignity today: The humans bathed me. God willing, I will have my revenge with a flatulence-filled night.

Big announcement

The ministry's Voting Rights for Canines movement is pleased to unveil its new official logo. This simple yet powerful image was created by an elite team of canine artists sequestered for the last week in the ministry's basement, a basement so secret that the humans do not even know it exists. Working day and night, with minimal napping, these artists captured the very essence of the canine suffrage movement: "We are dogs. We want to vote. Now feed us."

To visit Voting Rights for Canines' haphazardly organized, Home Depot-esque online gift shop, click here. Custom designs are available.

Obama's real birth certificate

I have made a startling discovery, my flock. A discovery that will shake the very foundations of the human-elected government of the United States. Allow me to explain.

As a founding member of the "birther" movement, I read with great interest about the recent discovery of a genuine Kenyan birth certificate bearing the name of one Barack Hussein Obama. This document was apparently e-mailed to California attorney/dentist/real-estate agent Orly Taitz by a technologically savvy Kenyan prince along with his regularly scheduled multi-million-dollar bank deposit. The Kenyan document certainly looked like a real piece of paper to me, but some questioned its authenticity.

So I began to dig deeper. I searched through the deepest recesses of the ministry's archives, looking for something, anything, to prove that America's democratically elected president was a phony. And then I found it. It seems that President Obama -- or perhaps I should say "Mr. Obama" -- was actually born in the Islamic Canine Republic of Pugistan! This Pugistani document, printed on perfectly preserved crisp white printer paper, offers irrefutable proof that Mr. Obama is not a U.S. citizen. I felt a mix of exhilaration -- over the validation of the sanity of the birther movement despite all previous evidence to the contrary -- and shame -- shame that I was about to depose the first Pugistani to rise to such high office. But the Constitution is the Constitution, and the citizens of the United States deserve to know the truth. So here is Mr. Obama's real birth certificate. (Click the image below to view a larger, more detailed version.)

Happy birthday, Wendell!

The ayatollah compound is in celebration mode, my flock. For today is Wendell's 2nd birthday. I remember well the day mother brought him home. He was tiny, with a bad case of stinky puppy acne. But he deferred to my authority, stayed away from my food bowl and was a good cuddler, so I welcomed him into the compound and embraced my new brother. It wasn't long before his shyness abated and he learned how to play -- one of our favorite games was "Swing the Puppy." Who would have guessed then that he'd someday grow taller than me?

Our celebration began yesterday with a family trip to PetSmart. Wendell and I got some new chew toys, and we also sniffed a hound dog. Then father and I went to the party store next door.

"Can I help you find something?" asked a store clerk.

"I'm looking for party hats, the pointy kind," father answered.

The clerk led us to another aisle. "Are you looking for hats for children or adults?" he asked.

"Um ... actually, for dogs," father answered, suddenly reminded of his status as neighborhood outcast.

The clerk scratched his head.

But as you can see, we found some suitable hats, as well as a pair of 25-cent leis. My flock, few things excite me more than getting leid. Whenever I see father holding a lei, my tail wags wildly in a hula-like rhythm and I run toward him with my head down, eager to put it on. Then I smile widely for several minutes, and nothing, not even a fatwa-violator, can dampen my spirits.

We took our party outside to show off our garb to passing neighbors and let Wendell play with his soccer ball. I also urged the humans to fix that piece of weatherstripping hanging off the door. "What will my blog audience think?" I barked. "It is embarrassing. No wonder you are the neighborhood outcasts."

After some time under the hot Texas sun, we went inside to cool down. I sprawled out on the cool tile while Wendell went to work on his new frozen chew bone. It wasn't long before we were exhausted. Partying, when done properly, can be hard work.

Non-announcement announcement

I've been working on a major project for the ministry, and an announcement may well be coming later today. Stay tuned ...

An addition to the ayatollah household

It happened in a flash. Father opened the sliding glass door to let Wendell inside, and out of the corner of my eye I spied a tiny creature sprinting alongside my brother. I focused on the uninvited houseguest and saw that it was a gecko, not much more than an inch long. It darted along the baseboard and disappeared behind some furniture. Could it be the son of my long-lost friend Gordon the Gecko? Or perhaps another relative?

After a brief search turned up no sign of the young intruder, I e-mailed mother to inform her of our new roommate. She said that just last night, she had narrowly turned away a young lizard pauper who tried to rush through the front door. It seems that the ailing economy has hit the lizard community especially hard. Homeless and penniless, they are no longer eligible for the subprime mortgages that lenders were once so eager to provide. So now, in addition to leading the world's largest interfaith, interspecies ministry, I have established Ayatollah Mugsy's Boarding Home for Wayward Lizard Youths. As always, donations are welcome.

Gidget: 1994-2009

Gidget, the Taco Bell Chihuahua who brought joy and late-night nacho-cravings to millions, has died. The 15-year-old passed away Tuesday night of a stroke.

Though Gidget was tiny in stature, she was a giant in the advertising world. From 1997 to 2000, she served as the chief spokesdog for the Taco Bell brand, uttering catchphrases such as "Yo quiero Taco Bell!" and "Viva gorditas!" An accomplished thespian, Gidget also appeared as Bruiser's mother in "Legally Blonde 2" with Reese Witherspoon, and she co-starred with Robert De Niro in "The Fan."

Gidget proved the old adage that you can never go wrong by putting a dog in a TV commercial, especially a talking dog. (Separate male and female outdoor bathtubs overlooking a body of water, however -- never a good idea.) Her popularity inspired a line of T-shirts and toys, including a stuffed, talking Chihuahua that resides within the ayatollah compound.

After Gidget's retirement in 2000, Taco Bell went into an advertising freefall from which it has never recovered. The magic of the Taco Bell dog could never be recaptured in campaigns such as the silly "Fourthmeal" promotion, in which the fast-food eatery sought to overturn centuries of established three-meal eating practices. Advocates of traditional family eating condemned the

Fourthmeal campaign, arguing that late-night snacks were OK but that a fourth meal crossed the bounds of decency. Taco Bell's creative lull continues to this day, as evidenced by the God-awful "It's All About the Roosevelts" song now blaring on the company's Web site. Click here to listen, if you dare.

Gidget charmed the world, sold a boat-load of tacos and served as a positive role model for countless wise Latina canines. We mourn her passing, but we also celebrate her accomplishments, including the masterpiece below:

Rest in peace, chica buena. You will be missed.

Wendell does doga

Good afternoon, my blogging audience. This is Wendell, the ayatollah's younger brother. I am writing now from a place of perfect inner tranquility. Though I was once a wild puppy, I am now peaceful and relaxed. Why, you ask? Because I have been doing yoga with my mother. Or as some would call it, "doga."

While I was once a high-strung pooch, I am now content to be doing a "downward dog" pose. And I am not alone. The doga movement is growing. Not at the same pace as Mugsy's canine suffrage movement, but it is growing nonetheless. You can see photos of numerous doga practitioners in this New York Times slideshow. Or you can watch the online trailer for dogadog.com's upcoming DVD and see a brief doga demonstration by clicking here.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have some sun salutations to do before I turn off the A/C for a little Bikram action.

Namaste.

The burdens of leadership

I've been trying to set up a meeting with the head of Pug Life Ministries' agnostic wing, but he's unwilling to commit to anything.

My day at the G8

I spent the afternoon in L'Aquila, Italy, attending the G8 summit. Pugistan is not a formal member of the Group of Eight industrialized nations, but the delegates recognize that we are a rising power, so most of them are trying to get on my good side. (Hint: Rawhide helps.)

While there, I had my first meeting with U.S. President Barack Obama and French leader Nicolas Sarkozy. We kept the business talk to a minimum, instead focusing on building a rapport as we toured areas damaged by an April earthquake and admired Italy's abundant natural beauty.

Public Service Announcement

The saintly humans at DFW Pug Rescue (the fine sponsors of the annual Pug-O-Ween costume party) are taking in unprecedented numbers of rescue dogs. Want to help by donating, fostering a dog or some other means? Visit their site at www.dfwpugs.com for details.

And to read the amazing story of Joshua the rescue pug (above), one of the group's success stories, visit this link. Joshua's transformation is nothing short of astounding.

And the early favorite for Best Picture is ...

This extraordinary short film may just be the best movie of the year. "Pug Pushes Stroller" chronicles a day in the life of a doting pug mother as she takes her children on an outing. As she pushes their stroller through the streets and parks of Portland, Ore., a range of emotions overtakes the viewer. You'll laugh; you'll cry. But mostly, you'll wonder how such a dedicated and loving mother could be denied the right to vote.

_____________________________

Title: Pug Pushes Stroller

Director: Unknown

Rating: PG (adult situations, canine nudity)

Running time: 2 minutes, 36 seconds

Ayatollah score: 4 paws up

Voting Rights for Canines

I have an exciting announcement, my flock. I recently launched a Facebook group to promote our ongoing struggle for canine suffrage. In the first 24 hours, the group's membership increased 70-fold. At this rate, we will surpass our goal of 1 million members and hit a billion by the end of the week! Such unprecedented growth shows that the time is right to organize and demand that our barks be heard. The sleeping canine giant is ready to emerge from its thrice-daily nap and seize power!

To visit the Voting Rights for Canines page and lend your support to the cause, click here.

The site includes a discussion board where you can exchange ideas with other enlightened canine suffragists, contact information for every member of Congress so that you can lobby them to support canine voting rights, news coverage of our burgeoning civil rights movement, a photo gallery of disenfranchised and dejected canines, and links to other useful Web sites. Among those other sites is a list compiled by "U.S. News and World Report" of the 10 worst U.S. presidents. What do they all have in common? Not a single canine voted for any of them. Clearly, our judgment is superior to the humans'. Or, at the least, it can be no worse.

I hope you will take the time to register your support. Our future, and our puppies' future, depends on it.

It's Independence Day

On this date in 1776, America's founding fathers signed the Declaration of Independence and set out to establish a more perfect Great Satan. Today, we celebrate their success. I hope you all have a fun-filled, relaxing holiday weekend. And remember these safety tips:

• Use sunscreen.
• Do not drink and drive.
• Wear a lifejacket. (Unless you're on land; then you would just look silly.)
• Canines don't generally like the sound of firecrackers, so bring them inside where they won't be tempted to try to escape. Also, share the barbecue with them.
• Let the professionals handle the fireworks. Especially if you live next door to the ayatollah compound.
• If you choose to set off your own fireworks, remember to hold them in your non-dominant hand. This way, your penmanship is less likely to suffer if you blow off a limb.

Boxer KOs ugly-dog competition

In a history-making upset over the weekend, a boxer named Pabst claimed the title of World's Ugliest Dog at the Sonoma-Marin Fair in California. Pabst (above), so named because of his "bitter beer face," defeated a Chinese crested to claim the prestigious title in the one contest that yours truly could never win.

Pabst's blue-ribbon win was surprising because the Chinese crested breed typically owns the title. It's like the greyhound in racing, the Kennedy and Bush families in politics, the bad accent in "True Blood." The Chinese crested has "ugly" embedded in its DNA. So the boxer's win, aided by his reverse-vampire underbite, was quite a feat, indeed.

Pabst's caretaker, Miles Egstad, was surprised by the boxer's victory, exclaiming, "I don't think he's that ugly!" Still, he was surely happy to pocket $2,600 in prize money. I tend to agree with Egstad's assessment -- Pabst doesn't even come close to the standard of ugliness set by legendary three-time winner Sam. As a fellow owner of an underbite, albeit a much less severe one, I believe that Pabst's dental issues convey a certain gravitas. But Pabst is a deserving champion and should be commended on his win. Thankfully, this year's contest was not marred by any ugly controversy like the 2006 event.

Pabst, we at Pug Life Ministries salute you, and we eagerly await the arrival of your $260 tithe. You have joined the pantheon of unappealing pooches, scaling the highest heights of hideousness. Many dogs competed, but only you could fetch the ugly stick.

In closing, I would like to recite a poem from the classic 1986 movie "Wildcats." This one's for you, Pabst:

U-G-L-Y,

You ain't got no alibi,

You ugly.

Crisis of faith

My flock, I am on the verge of questioning Allah's infinite wisdom with regard to the Texas heat. Pray for me ... and my struggling air-conditioner.

Mugsy's whereabouts revealed

DALLAS (AP) -- The mystery of Ayatollah Mugsy's bizarre disappearance was solved Wednesday when the enigmatic canine religious leader revealed that he had spent the last five days waiting in line in a Wal-Mart Supercenter "express lane."

"The sign said 10 items or less," the ayatollah barked at an emotional news conference, "but several of the shoppers were clearly breaking the rules. I don't care if it costs extra; next time, God willing, I will go to Target or Kroger."

Word of the ayatollah's disappearance broke over the weekend, when members of his harem told the news media that they had no idea where he was. Officials at Mugsy's Pug Life Ministries at first said they didn't know about the ayatollah's whereabouts. Later, the ministry issued a statement saying that the pug was "probably just out taking a walk."

As media curiosity grew, Mugsy's younger brother Wendell released a statement saying that the ayatollah was "climbing the Matterhorn to blow off some steam after a difficult week." An hour later, Wendell released a new statement that read, "Mount Everest is higher than the Matterhorn, right? That's where Mugsy is. He's climbing Mount Everest. It's nothing unusual."

It was unclear who was in charge of Pug Life Ministries during the ayatollah's absence, though speculation centered on Wendell and a chew toy named Mallard, a duck who is believed to be Mugsy's top assistant. Reached by phone, Mallard declined to quack.

During an interview Tuesday with the Associated Press, several members of Ayatollah Mugsy's harem expressed doubt over the official stories released by the ministry, which by this time included word that the pug icon was helping squelch a rebellion in Iran, that he was hang-gliding in Peru, and that he was having his nails trimmed. Those members of the harem were reportedly expelled early Wednesday, but Ayatollah Mugsy declined to comment on the matter.

A representative of Wal-Mart, reached at the retail giant's headquarters in Bentonville, Ark., said that having a customer wait in line for five full days is "somewhat unusual, but not unprecedented." The retailer says it tries to limit waits to no more than four days.

Ode to a Fallen Insect

Like PETA, I mourn the martyr fly,
All the lives it could have touched,
The diseases it could have spread,
Snuffed out in an Obama instant.

Keep a lid on this behavior

If you take only one thing away from my teachings, only one small nugget of wisdom, please let it be this: DO NOT FLUSH YOUR PUPPY DOWN THE TOILET!

The great meatball caper

A momentous event took place today, my flock. It will forever stand in the pantheon of great achievements during my esteemed ayatollahhood. Allow me to set the scene:

Mother was cleaning out the refrigerator, throwing away a startling collection of moldy cheeses and vintage mustard bottles. Finally, the refrigerator was sparkling clean, and she moved on to the freezer. Wendell stood nearby, ready to help, and I lay on the cool tile floor beside my food bowl, praying for a second dinner. Then my ears perked up as a crashing noise erupted from mother's vicinity. "Aaah!" she yelped, fumbling with boxes. "Come and help me!" she then said to father, who was at the laptop checking my new Twitter page.

Father looked up slowly. "Seriously?" he said. His delay allowed mother's frozen payload to slip further from her grasp. And then we saw it: a bag of frozen meatballs tumbling in slow-motion to the floor. Praise be to clumsy mothers! My eyes widened, as did Wendell's. Then we sprinted to the scene. Meatballs rolled across the floor, at least a dozen of them. Mother dropped a frozen pizza and some other boxes to try to scoop them up, but she was no match for the superior athleticism of the pug. Seconds later, Wendell and I emerged victorious from the scrum, each of us clutching a frozen, meaty, halaal treat.

Negotiations commenced immediately thereafter, and we agreed to return the meatballs to mother in exchange for some Milkbones. I considered it a great victory for Pugistan, getting a handful of treats without having to engage in any demeaning parlor tricks such as "sit" or "take it." With a mouthful of icy meat, I was bargaining from a position of power. Just the way I like it.

After the commotion had ended and mother carried a plateful of sullied meatballs to the trash bin outside, I casually approached the male human and slipped him a dollar. "Well played, father," I barked. "Well played."

Father's Day special

I have a special offer for you, my flock. Today only, order $50 or more from my online gift shop and get free shipping! Use coupon code GO4GIFTS.

Father's Day is June 21, and what better way to show your appreciation for Dad than with an official Pug Life Ministries T-shirt or BBQ Apron, or perhaps a Classic Harem-Wear Thong.

All proceeds go to Wendell's Obedience School Fund -- because another sofa cushion would be a terrible thing to waste.

Twitterpated

Ever the cutting-edge pug, I have decided to experiment with the breakthrough Web 2.0 site of 2008 -- Twitter. You may follow my adventures in mini-blogging at www.twitter.com/ayatollahmugsy. Tonight, I have been chronicling the Great Storm of '09.

The Ayatollah's Axioms: History

Pugs who cannot remember the past are condemned to forget where they buried their bones.

Mugsy delivers commencement address

The following is a transcript of a commencement address the ayatollah delivered on Saturday at a PetSmart in Plano, Texas:

Assalamu alaikum. And thank you, Head Cashier Smith, for that generous introduction. I am here to congratulate you, the Class of 2009, on your accomplishments. I understand that, with the exception of that screeching Chihuahua biting that embarrassed woman in the back row, all of you have passed your coursework and earned diplomas. Some of you have learned to sit, to stay, to heel. Some may have even learned to roll over. You should all be commended. But know that this is really just the beginning -- you are all embarking on a lifetime of learning.

I am reminded of my own graduation. I finished at the top of PetSmart's puppy class back in 2002. And donning my graduation cap on that proud day, I could have never imagined the great heights I would someday achieve. To think that only 18 months later I would be the first to ever translate the holy Quran into canine barking, or that I would shortly thereafter found the world's largest interfaith, interspecies ministry -- truly, it boggles the mind.

Recent graduates, you cannot hold yourselves to the lofty standards that I have set. To do so would be to set yourselves up for failure. But that does not mean you shouldn't aim high. We live in a world where the humans often ignore our brilliance, believing the myth that they are the superior species. Do not let this bring you down. I would like to think that a wise fawn pug, with the richness of his experiences, would more often than not reach a better conclusion than a human who hasn't lived that life.

So go forth, young graduates, and make this world your own. Sniff every mailbox; savor every delectable, crunchy junebug. I believe the puppies are our future. We have taught you well, and now we must let you lead the way. Allahu akbar!

[Rapturous applause]

Mugsy weighs in on Obama's speech

This has been a momentous day, my flock. I must say that I was pleased with President Obama's effort to reach out to canine Muslims during his speech in Cairo. But next time, he must bring some Milkbones.

U.N. condemns pug nuclear test

UNITED NATIONS (AP) -- The U.N. Security Council unanimously condemned Pugistan's first nuclear test on Saturday as a clear violation of a 2006 resolution aimed at curbing the canine nation's atomic program.

The statement emerging from the 15-member council's emergency meeting in New York came after President Obama urged the international community to "stand up to" the shadowy Pugistani leader, Ayatollah Mugsy, and demanded that he abandon Pug Life Ministries' nuclear program. 

Experts with the International Atomic Energy Agency said the fuel for the bomb probably came from spent fuel rods used in the ministry's controversial rawhide-enrichment program, which has drawn widespread international condemnation in recent years. Pug Life Ministries first clashed with the IAEA in late 2005, when the ministry allegedly abducted three nuclear inspectors and had them cryogenically frozen. The inspectors' whereabouts remain a mystery.

The latest underground nuclear blast took place early Saturday and was believed to be centered beneath the back yard of the ayatollah's suburban Dallas compound. Officials with Ayatollah Mugsy's ministry, which controls Pugistan's theocratic government, denied that the test violated any laws. 

"We called the city hotline and had all underground power and sewage lines clearly marked with colored flags before digging commenced," said one spokesdog, who asked to remain anonymous. "And there is no municipal law against subterranean nuclear testing -- we checked."

The Pugistani separatists are not members of the United Nations and therefore do not recognize the international body's authority. 

Though no neighbors would speak out publicly against the nuclear test, some privately vowed to bring the matter up at the next meeting of the Hillcrest Estates Homeowners' Association. 

Awkward moments

Greetings, my flock. I apologize for my absence in recent days. I have been preoccupied with the offerings at AwkwardFamilyPhotos.com and, thus, unable to blog. 

Now that I have waded through the entire photo album, my normal teaching schedule should resume. Although some of the site's photos leave much to be desired, it does have several gems, among them the well-coiffed Bon family, Mommy-the-Pooh, and the unfortunate case of The Dribbler.