Plan B

Hey, everybody. Mallard here. The ayatollah just called me on his cell phone and said he's driving to Texas Motor Speedway to negotiate a deal for hosting the telethon. He sounded really optimistic and said the Texas Stadium debacle could be a blessing in disguise. The speedway is way bigger than Texas Stadium -- it holds over 200,000 people! Just imagine how many dogs it could hold. I'm thinking a half-million, easy. Maybe more, depending on the Chihuahua count. Anyway, I'm sure Mugsy will come back with good news to report, but I wanted to fill you all in. Quack you later.

A minor setback

It has come to my attention that Texas Stadium, the planned venue for the Pug Life Telethon, is hosting American Idol auditions this weekend. I had been under the impression that I could just show up, pay a small fee and rent the stadium. But surprisingly, it seems this is not the case. I appealed to stadium owner Jerry Jones to throw the no-talent bums out in the interest of appeasing God. For a moment, Mr. Jones stood still, his face showing not the slightest hint of emotion. I was not sure whether this was a bad sign or just the byproduct of some plastic surgery gone awry. But then he informed me that the stadium lease had already been signed, and Pug Life Ministries would have to find another venue. Though this was a disappointing setback, I urge you to keep the faith, my flock. I have confidence that I will be able to find a suitable site by tomorrow.

Mugsy craves vengeance

I was being chauffeured home after a long day at the mosque. We turned down a quiet street, a little more than a mile from the ayatollah compound. The soothing sounds of sports-talk radio filled the cabin of my auto-steed. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a shadowy figure lingering at the edge of a brick wall. Without warning, he stepped forward and hurled a softball-sized object at the pugmobile. Father swerved, and then it hit with a thud on the side of the car. Was this an organized plot against the ministry? Somehow, I thought not. The amateurish nature of this brazen attack seemed like the work of teenage hooligans. We stayed in the vicinity for a while, hoping to flag down one of the SUV-driving police officers who roam the streets of our fair suburb in abundance on every night except the one when they are needed. I wanted nothing more than to see these infidels roughed up, cuffed and sent off to Sing Sing. But they escaped with no repercussions.

It is said that "boys will be boys." But boys will also find their kneecaps broken by a band of club-wielding bulldogs if they are caught messing with the wrong ayatollah’s auto-steed. Keep that in mind, young hoodlums. And know that ARF’s bloodhounds are on your trail.

For the do-it-yourselfers

Hi, I'm Bob Vila. The supreme ayatollah asked me to meet with you today to discuss an important topic: decoy pugs. Mugsy uses these decoys for security reasons, but a well-made decoy pug can have all kinds of uses. You're limited only by your imagination. Now, let's get on with it, shall we?

Step 1: You'll want to start by gathering up fur. The baseboards can be a good place to find materials. Make sure you have a sturdy support to work on -- these decoys can get heavy.

Step 2: Now you've cleaned up all the fur collected on the baseboards and clinging to the table legs, but it's not quite enough. Don't despair, Pug Lifers; with the right tools, you'll be just fine. I recommend a good, sturdy brush. Now go to work on your real-life pug. Try going both with and against the grain. You'll be amazed at how quickly the fur adds up. Don't be afraid to brush too much; I've yet to make a pug go bald.

Step 3: Now we're getting somewhere. See the pug begin to take shape? From here, it's just a matter of smoothing out the rough edges. Try some 400-grit sandpaper, and a chisel if necessary. Before you know it, you've got a decoy pug of your very own.

For accessories like the ayatollah's turban, we use a proprietary prop with a Mr. Potatohead-like attachment feature. The details on these are classified, so you'll have to try fabricating your own. Good luck on your projects, everybody! For Ayatollah Mugsy, this is Bob Vila saying, "Allah be with you."

Bringing home the bacon

It was an eventful and exhausting weekend at the ayatollah compound. Bruce, my large-pawed Lab cousin, stayed with me while his parents were out of town. Bruce and I have many qualities in common, chief among them our love of treats. But we also have our differences. For example, my affinity for water extends only to that which is in my bowl. Bruce, on the other paw, seeks out liquid at any and all opportunities. On a walk Saturday morning, he splashed in every puddle he saw and showed an uncanny ability to drink while moving at full speed. His tongue skimmed the surface of each pool of rainwater. Then, on a later walk, Bruce actually leaped headlong into the neighborhood creek. Needless to say, I moved away from the water's edge as quickly as possible. Like the nervous ducks, I wanted nothing to do with young Bruce's splashing.

Once Bruce dried off, we got to work on some pressing security matters. My canine Muslim faith had prevented me from properly interrogating one of the ringleaders of this year's chew-toy insurrection. Bruce, however, had no such qualms about "questioning" Squeaky Pig. Thank Allah for extraordinary rendition.

A purr you don't want to hear

I found a story recently that I thought would be of interest to the congregation. It shows that cats, like dogs, are capable of extraordinary feats -- feats that humans cannot even begin to comprehend. Either that, or this feline grim reaper should be taken in for questioning.

Click here to read about Oscar the cat.

Mark your calendars

It is official: The Pug Life Telethon will be Aug. 3, 2007. That is one week from Friday. I hope you will join me for a daylong extravaganza featuring entertainment, celebrity guest stars and impassioned fundraising. I am in negotiations with Dallas Cowboys owner Jerry Jones to hold the telethon in Texas Stadium, where it is said that the hole in the roof allows Allah to look down upon the playing field. I believe this will be a fitting venue for such a significant milestone in canine culture, and the stadium will accommodate a respectable crowd of 65,000 congregants. I know, I know. That will leave many of you on the outside looking in. But take comfort in the knowledge that should you be unable to procure one of the $350 tickets, you will be able to turn to this blog for updates.

A decision has been made

Many members of the congregation have weighed in on my recent betrayal at the hands of a loved one. Some were quick to condemn mother for her poor infant fashion sense. Others came to her defense, pointing out her role in shaping the world's foremost authority on canine Islam.

I have taken both arguments to heart. And despite mother's grievous transgressions, I have decided to keep her around. Now if you'll excuse me, I think I hear her pouring my morning meal.

Betrayal of trust

There are times, my flock, when our loved ones disappoint us. When their actions are so far out of line that they serve as an affront to our personal moral beliefs. I experienced such disappointment over the weekend, my flock. And the one who betrayed my trust was none other than my mother.

She was going to a baby shower. "Mugsy," she asked beforehand, "I know the ministry's coffers are low, but may I please buy a gift for the baby-to-be? I promise it will not interfere with the flow of rawhide to your eager mouth, Your Holiness." I briefly considered her request and then nodded my consent. Longtime readers of this blog know of my well-established compassion for the world's children. Though seldom as attractive as puppies, they are innocents and thus deserve a good start in life. I believe the children are our future -- our future dog servants. So not only did I grant mother permission to purchase a fitting gift for the baby, I also offered a suggestion that would ensure this human had a leg up right out of the starting gate.

And what gift did mother purchase for this child? Not an Ayatollah Mugsy Youth Infant Creeper, as I had recommended. Not even a Pug Crumb Catcher Bib. It is tragic, really. This child could have entered this world at the height of fashion, commanding respect from his or her peers from Day One. Plus, the baby would have served as a crawling, drooling billboard for the ministry. What higher purpose could Allah bestow on a human child? Instead, it will wear some common outfit from Target. If ever mother was deserving of chastisement, now is the time. So let her have it, my flock.

Magic moment

In a little over 24 hours, a major literary event will take place. I pray that mother doesn't dig out the Muggy Potter glasses again.

Telethon update

In an earlier post, I mentioned this Friday as a tentative date for the Pug Life telethon. But my mother -- apparently unaware of the planetary significance of this extravaganza -- scheduled a veterinary appointment on the same day.

This will push our telethon back, but it will also give you all more time to save up your money for donations or audition for a slot in the event's entertainment lineup. God willing, I will have an announcement on the official telethon date, as well as the official slogan, within the next few days.

Oklahoma's finest

I have returned from my long roadtrip through the Sooner State, brought about by a pair of hospitalized great-grandmothers (both now doing well). So I will fill you in.

After my high-level security talks with Rabbi Jake and Bruce, I stopped by the house of the former Sister Bella to check on her progress. Just as I feared, it seems a "booster exorcism" is in order for our Chihuahua sister. But no blood was drawn, so we will label this a successful house-call. The next morning, we visited one of the great-grandmothers in the hospital and then drove up the turnpike to Tulsa to see the other. And it was there that I sampled a rare treat:

To those unfortunate souls who have never tasted a Coney I-Lander coney, a pilgrimage is in order. This fast-food Mecca is a Tulsa institution. Its undersized hot dogs boast an oversized flavor exceeding even that of enriched rawhide. Founded in 1926 in downtown Tulsa, the eatery has expanded somewhat over the years, with a handful of locations throughout the Tulsa area. Yet, tragically, its flavorful wieners have eluded the palates of many. While substandard fast-food chains such as McDonald's and Subway have proliferated across the globe, the religious experience of eating a cheese coney with no onions remains confined to northeastern Oklahoma.

Over the weekend, I paid my first visit in well over a year to this purveyor of heaven in a bun. It was just as I remembered: the soft, steamed bun; the perfectly melted cheese; the tiny yet intensely flavorful (and hopefully halaal) weenie. And that chili. Oh, the chili. It is like nothing else on Earth. Allah Himself just have lovingly ladled it onto the bun. If you ever find yourself within a hundred miles of Tulsa, do your taste buds a favor and take a coney detour.

ARF security conference

Greetings, my flock. I come to you from an undisclosed location in central Oklahoma, where I have convened an emergency summit to discuss the urgent security issues facing the ministry. I met last night with Rabbi Jake and my new cousin Bruce, who also made the trek from the Dallas area. The three of us began with a thorough security sweep. We marked off several hundred yards of curbside property, claiming it for the Armed Revolutionary Forces (ARF). With a secure cordon around our meeting place, we went to work under the abundant stars. The talks sometimes got testy. I won't lie, my flock, a few growls were exchanged. A security crisis within the ministry has a way of ratcheting up the tension. But ultimately, we knew we were working toward the same purpose.

You may think that Bruce, being less than 4 months old, is too young to sit in on such high-level talks. But he is rather advanced for his age, and he is eager to learn. Plus, he is tall enough to knock the food off the humans' table.

Infidels conspire against us

The ministry's headline crisis is over. Praise Allah! But this incident shows how our reliance on the Internet leaves us vulnerable. On a whim, a rogue programmer at Blogger was able to interfere with my sermons. This is unacceptable. Unacceptable, I say! Because the plotters in this conspiracy have not all been identified and dealt with, I am raising the collective hackles of the ministry to Code Red. With the first-ever Pug Life telethon right around the corner, we cannot afford any further disruptions.

Several new security measures are being enacted to ensure that the telethon, tentatively scheduled for July 20, will go off without a hitch. I have diverted fur from our patriotic ribbon program to be used in life-like decoys -- decoys that will be positioned around the ministry, making it impossible for any would-be evildoers to determine my true location. These carefully molded piles of fur have the look and feel of a real pug and will even be dressed in stylish ayatollah attire. The late Saddam Hussein employed a similar strategy to great effect, and I am confident that it will provide another layer of security as the ministry sniffs out those who would do us harm. Be vigilant, my flock.

Is anyone else on Blogger unable to write headlines for their posts? For days now, this problem has persisted. I click in the headline box, yet no cursor appears. How can I properly convey my message without a headline? Perhaps some infidel is trying to sabotage my teachings, to torpedo my burgeoning ministry. Could it be an atheist chew toy? A feline? A rival religious faction? God willing, I will get to the bottom of this.

EDIT: Thanks to Upwiththesun, my sermons will no longer be incomplete. This is one "improvement" that Blogger should have skipped.

The chain gang

Over the last week or so, I have noticed many stories in the news media about humans chaining themselves to doghouses. The movement seems to have taken hold from coast to coast. The motive: to protest the tethering of dogs. This strikes me as a worthy endeavour. While I can see instances when chaining a canine in the yard would be acceptable -- when you want to do some gardening in the front yard and need the aid of a dog's green paw, for instance -- it is generally to be frowned upon. Allah blessed us with four legs so that we might roam and claim new territory, and being chained up is counter-productive to His intentions.

Many of the humans taking part in these protests made a point of letting their canines run free while they were shackled, and this is a move I whole-heartedly applaud. These humans will find the transition to canine rule under the coming Pugistani theocracy to be much easier than their less-forward-thinking brethren.

News of the beard

The competition is fierce in the canine beard and moustache contest, but that isn't the only news of the day. Jackson, the contest's organizer, has informed me that the humans in charge of the original World Beard & Moustache Championships want to display images of the canine contestants at their event on Sept. 1 in Brighton, England.

This will be an excellent opportunity to expand the ministry's reach while also showing the humans what a real beard looks like.

New protege

On Saturday, I welcomed a new canine to the congregation. My uncle adopted Bruce, a Lab puppy, from a shelter in Carrollton and stopped by to introduce him to me. "Ayatollah," he said, "I want Bruce to learn from you how to be a 'good dog.' Can you take him under your wing and mentor him?"

"Yes, my human child," I replied. "I will work with your large-pawed pup. For a small fee."

After receiving a biscuit in payment, I took Bruce out in the back yard to get a baseline of his skills. He possessed excellent athleticism and keen ball-fetching ability. He was a fast runner, but not as fast as yours truly. Yes, my flock -- despite this graying beard, the ayatollah can still tuck tail and fly.


Bruce's drinking form -- splashing much of the water out of his bowl -- differed from mine. But it proved effective all the same. Once the humans began to feast on their lunch, Bruce and I made our way inside. The pup displayed food-seeking techniques beyond his years, using his height to full advantage and nearly making off with slices of pizza on multiple occasions. It was apparent that with practice and a slightly refined technique, he could become a true begging prodigy.

Finally, it was time for Bruce to go. His parents had a date with PetSmart and one of those cages the humans like to euphemistically call "crates." I took young Bruce aside. "You are off to a fine start, my canine protege," I barked. "When next we meet, I will introduce you to rawhide."

Wish me luck

Jackson, a wire fox terrier in the United Kingdom, is hosting a canine beard and moustache contest. I think this could be right up my alley.

From the heavens

I was patrolling the back yard, making sure no infidels had intruded upon my lush carpet of weeds interspersed with grass. The fence line marks my domain, and a good ayatollah must be ever-vigilant about re-asserting his territorial claims. Who knows what that scissor-tail flycatcher is up to -- is he just passing through, or are his motives more sinister? Either way, a gruff bark will send him fluttering on his way. As I sniffed the perimeter, a loud thunderclap raised my hackles. I felt a cool drop on my back, and then another. Then came the deluge. Before I could even scratch the door to make it magically open, my fur was drenched. My tail, heavy with the accursed rainwater, sank almost to the concrete.

Allah, we converse daily. Couldn't you have given me some warning?

Travel blog updated

I finally got around to posting some photos from Prague on my travel blog. Click here if you'd like to take a look.

Productive weekend

Progress. It is a beautiful word, and one that I believe applies to my weekend with Rabbi Jake. As you know, we have a long-term, mutual interest in bringing peace to the Middle East. It is one of my top personal goals as head of Pug Life Ministries -- perhaps not as high on the list as universal access to rawhide or canine suffrage, but important nonetheless. And this weekend, we put our snouts to the grindstone to try to make it happen. The situation looked bleak. Factional fighting had shattered any semblance of Palestinian unity, and the peace process had long been dormant. But lo and behold, what do we see after an exhausting weekend of talks?

Palestinian President Mahmoud Abbas has told President Bush that now is the time to resume Mideast peace talks. Not only that, but Abbas said this with great urgency. A sense of urgency that comes only from being leaned on by a strong-arm pug backed by the world's greatest canine military machine, the Armed Revolutionary Forces (ARF). Allahu Akbar! God willing, a humble pug and a curmudgeonly schnauzer will change the world.

Schnauzer houseguest

I am awaiting the arrival of Rabbi Jake, my longtime friend and the head of the Jewish wing of Pug Life Ministries. Given the rapidly deteriorating situation in the Middle East, we felt it necessary to do whatever we could to promote peace in the region. So we are convening an emergency summit to try to talk some sense into the feuding factions. I am less optimistic now than I was during our last attempt, but we must give it a shot. Otherwise, we will never win a Nobel Peace Prize.

Even if our appeal for peace fails, we can still do some much-needed preparation for the upcoming Pug Life Telethon. Rabbi Jake tells me he knows where we can get a great deal on kazoos.

Since I been gone

Since we last corresponded, I have been busy organizing the greatest spectacle of a telethon this world has ever seen. Just yesterday, recording star Kelly Clarkson canceled her summer tour so that she could devote all her energies to a telethon performance. "Though I am sacrificing potentially millions of dollars," she said, "it is worth it to help my fellow North Texan and spiritual adviser. Without the ayatollah, I would be nothing." I have been in talks with other celebrities as well, and I believe you will be pleased with the star-studded mix that awaits on telethon day. More details to come.

Stroke of genius

My friends, I have an exciting announcement to make. While nursing on my monkey foot, I entered a place of perfect calm and clarity. My mind focused, and I understood Allah's plan like never before. And then it hit, smack-dab in my already-flattened face: an epiphany. An idea that touches on all the key missions of Pug Life Ministries -- spiritual outreach, charity, fundraising. My friends, this will be a milestone in canine history. What is it, you ask? I will tell you. A telethon!

Yes, like the great Jerry Lewis before me, I will be holding a telethon. What better way to raise the ministry's profile in France? Allah willing, there will be more exciting details to come.

Sole obsession

Good day, faithful adherents of canine Islam. I regret that I have not had time to post in recent days, but I have been incredibly busy. With what, you ask? I have been suckling the monkey foot. By nursing at the toe of my stuffed monkey, I have gained incredible clarity, finding a place of zen, if you will. My intensity in these sessions with the monkey has grown legendary around the ayatollah compound. The outside world is of no concern to me; it is just me and the slobber-hardened monkey foot. So great is my single-minded focus that my mother has described it as "really creepy." But she is a mere human; how could she be expected to understand this higher plane of enlightenment? The humans have tried to capture a photo of these monkey-suckling, chi-channeling moments, but to no avail. The camera distracts me, and the moment is gone, quickly fleeting into memory like my morning kibble.

But I have found a photo here, in the ministry's archives. He is the orange-eyed primate to the left of the Blue Satan. Don't panic, however; I am not cavorting with the enemy. Intensive counseling sessions have broken the monkey of his revolutionary brainwashing. He was, deep down, a good monkey who fell in with the wrong crowd. And as a former juvenile delinquent, I understand as well as anyone the importance of a second chance. The monkey's sole allegiance is now to the ministry, and he has put his best foot forward to prove it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have business to attend to.

Incident involving the pope

I know that there has been great concern within Pug Life Ministries today over an incident involving Pope Pius Pug. Let me assure you all that he is doing well. The pontiff, head of Pug Life's Catholic wing and my longtime business partner, was going for a spin at the Vatican when a deranged man tried to jump into his popemobile. My sources in the Swiss Guard tell me that this man, a German, was screaming "I must feel the fur! The soft, soft fur!" as he reached out for the pope. Fortunately, members of the pope's ARF security detail were able to quickly wrestle the assailant to the ground, disorienting him with copious amounts of slobber before shackling him with a choke-chain collar.

This man is now being transferred to Syrian custody for "interrogation."

Pugaday.com appearance

Greetings, future citizens of Pugistan. A photo of me in my last Pug-O-Ween garb was recently chosen for display on Pugaday.com, and I was happy to be able to add to the daily parade of pugs there. But it was insinuated in the comments that perhaps I should feel shame for being dressed in such a manner. So let me set the record straight.

I am secure enough in my ayatollahhood to show the world my yellow, modified-from-the-toddler-aisle Pugly Duckling suit, complete with its masculine tuft of white fuzz on top -- just as I am comfortable sharing images of my crimefighting outfit and my equestrian gear. And all other canines should feel free to don a costume as well. Let no human tell you otherwise. If we cannot let our turbans down for Pug-O-Ween, when can we?

The fur flies

As the temperature rises, my desire to spend time outdoors diminishes. We pugs are a temperate breed. The Texas heat does not suit us, and so we thank Allah for the air conditioning and morning walks that help us through these not-so-dog days of summer. But it is said that every ozone cloud has a silver lining. In this case, that silver lining is piling up on my carpet and furniture as we speak. Thanks to God's brilliant plan, I have shed enough fur in the last week for a batch of 5,000 additional patriotic ribbons. Order yours today.

Not so fast ...

I am concerned, my flock. I fear that the natural order of things is in danger. Credible intelligence reports indicate that my parents have considered buying a device intended to slow down my eating. Perhaps they are well-meaning, but this simply will not do. As my extensive research has shown, a pug must eat each meal in 24 seconds or less to operate at peak efficiency.

Too fast, you say? Nonsense. As any capitalist pug knows, time is money. Every second wasted actually savoring my food is a second that I am not working on a sermon, healing the sick or collecting donations. Do you think I built the religious empire that is Pug Life Ministries -- complete with my astonishing two-figure annual income -- by stopping to smell the roses? No! I stop to smell the mailboxes, certainly, but that serves a purpose -- a purpose that I am sure my canine congregants are enlightened enough to understand.

I must stay focused, with no distractions. When I dine, I dine. And let no human stand in my way.