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."

Gone in a flash

I am worried about Gordon, the gecko friend I met early this month. For a while, he was a regular at the ayatollah compound -- either on the garage wall or on the outside of the garage door. I got to know Gordon, becoming his spiritual adviser. He was an eager student, and I bought him a tiny Quran to aid his studies. He began to talk about running away to Yemen to enroll in a madrassa, as I had done years earlier. "But Gordon," I said, "it is very hot there. Even hotter than Texas. I do not know if the Yemeni climate is suited to a Mediterranean gecko such as yourself." That was two weeks ago, and I have not seen him since. If anyone has any information on Gordon's whereabouts, please let me know. I pray for his safety.

Mega-dittos (whatever that means)

A recent story caught my eye. A broadcaster, who over the last two decades has built a media empire that nearly rivals my own, said something that was hard to believe. He criticized a man with Parkinson's disease for shaking. And not just any man; this was Michael J. Fox. The lovable Alex P. Keaton, Marty McFly. This statement was so outlandish -- and the ensuing "apology" so insincere -- that I had to investigate. The Armed Revolutionary Forces' intelligence wing pored over reams of data, analyzing facial movements, voice inflections, radio hiss. The ARF operatives then gave me a thorough presentation of their findings. And now, I am ready to release the results of this analysis.

No man -- regardless of how many illegal pain pills he was high on -- could be doltish enough to call Michael J. Fox "shameless" for displaying the symptoms of a disease he was diagnosed with 15 years ago. Rush Limbaugh must have been faking.

Wild child

I have been watching a fascinating documentary about feral children that I recorded from the Discovery Channel. It details the stories of several children who were raised by animals. I think I find this so interesting because I am a pug who has been raised by humans. In a sense, it is almost the same thing. So I have been doing some research to try to find an instance of a child being raised by pugs. I suspect that such a child would be, in many ways, more advanced than a typical human child. But so far, I have not found any such cases. I have been perusing this database, however, so I may yet stumble upon an instance of pug-raised children.

In the meantime, this documentary has set my normally subdued imagination into overdrive. I have many experiments that I wish to conduct on the feral-child phenomenon. Perhaps, God willing, I will try some of them out at the next meeting of the Ayatollah Mugsy Scouts.

Monumental find

EULESS, Texas (AP) -- Pilgrims from around the world descended upon a Texas park Monday to see what they believe is a sacred object -- a potato chip bearing the likeness of a canine religious leader.

Debbie Wilson, who discovered the chip, says it features an unmistakable image of Ayatollah Mugsy, her spiritual leader and the head of Pug Life Ministries.

"I was having a picnic Saturday," Wilson said, "and a chip fell out of my bag and onto my blanket. I looked down, and a ray of sunshine was illuminating that perfect image. It is so clearly the ayatollah. This is a sign from God; I just know it is."

Reluctant to move the chip, Wilson hired a security firm to watch it 24 hours a day.

Word spread quickly via Internet message boards, and by Sunday afternoon, the park was crowded with people and their pets clamoring to view the potato chip.

Euless police have been working overtime to manage the crowds and ensure the safety of the chip, whose brand name has not been revealed.

"This is a priceless item," said Euless Police Chief George Croft. "Imagine how they must have felt when they found the Dead Sea scrolls, or the Shroud of Turin. Then multiply that by a billion. I won't let any harm come to this chip. It will sit in that park until the ayatollah tells me to move it."

Ayatollah Mugsy declined to comment for this story, but a spokesman said the ministry was preparing to take control of the chip.

"This is an important artifact that seems to possess a message from Allah," said the spokesman, who asked to remain anonymous. "Mugsy wants it preserved for future generations to see, so I expect that it will be housed in a wing of the planned Dogloo Mosque -- unless GoldenPalace.com makes a suitable offer."

What bubble?

I apologize for the recent dearth of posts, my anxious flock. I have been working a lot of overtime at the mosque lately. This is good for the puggy bank, but not so good for the blog. You see, I am trying to save enough money to do some real estate investing.

Something fishy

At last the sun had gone down, bringing an end to the day's long, torturous fast. My mother and I went to a local Italian restaurant to celebrate. We go there occasionally, in spite of the fact that the big sign outside misspells "pizzeria." Once inside, we took our seats by the window and ordered a large pizza and some soft drinks. When my drink arrived, I noticed something unusual poking above the rim of the glass. Something that did not belong. I carefully fished out this piece of plastic, about an inch across. It was half black, half dirty-transparent. Thus began an inner dialogue in my well-wrinkled head.

"It is probably just a piece from an ice bag," one voice said. "It touches the ice anyway."

"Silence, fool!" my other voice boomed. "Only the inside of the bag would normally touch the ice. The outside is rolling around in the back of filthy trucks, being crawled upon by ungodly vermin and cockroaches. It is handled by countless grubby human hands before the ice reaches its destination. And now, that disgusting piece of plastic has contaminated your drink. Typhoid is probably just around the corner."

My other voice did not have a rebuttal. Just then, the waiter brought a fresh drink for my mother, who unlike me had been sipping her soda. I glanced down to see that the piece of plastic was no longer where I had left it on the corner of the table.

"What happened to that plastic?" I barked to my mother.

"Oh, I moved it," she said.

"Where did you put it?"

"I ... I don't know," she said nervously.

I gave her a long look. "You ate it, didn't you?" I queried. This she denied. "All right," I barked. "Where did you put it?"

She made a show of briefly fumbling through her pockets. "Oh, I don't know what I did with it," she said dismissively.

"I was thinking of asking the waiter for another drink," I said. "But you have apparently eaten the evidence."

"I did not," she said, averting her eyes.

The moral of the story is this, my flock: If you ever dine with my mother, watch her like a hawk.

Who can resist?

As a public service -- and to help perpetuate the canine race -- the ministry brings you this flier, originally posted at a California dog park. Click here for further details.

I humbly accept

I am honored to announce that The Ayatollah's Teachings has been named "Cool Dog Site of the Day" by Dogmark.net. I am very grateful for this honor, which is made all the more impressive by the fact that this is not a leap year. Yes, only 365 of the world's billions upon billions of Web sites will earn this distinction for 2006. I am humbled, even more so than usual.

This honor means we are eligible for the "Cool Dog Site of the Month" award as well, but voting for the October winner will not begin until next month. Don't worry; I will remind you to vote early and often. In the meantime, I endorse ARF Supreme Commander Brody the Bulldog as a worthy September champion.

Click here to visit Dogmark's "Cool Dog Site of the Day" page, where you can also see a list of previous winners and vote for monthly winners.

Thank you, Dogmark officials. May Allah ensure that your bellies are well-rubbed today, and may the sweet taste of rawhide never leave your mouths.

Put the pug down, and back away ...

Some of you may have already seen these disturbing photos. Fear not, my concerned flock. A rescue mission is in the works.

Pug-O-Ween approaches

Over the weekend, my thoughts turned to the leading social event of the year: Pug-O-Ween. Pug meetups and dog-park outings are wonderful, but Pug-O-Ween, well, that is on a whole other plane. Hundreds of brilliantly festooned pugs, all snorting as one in an Arlington gymnasium. The sound of labored breathing hangs heavy in the air, a never-ending symphony of short-snouted soulfulness. It is enough to bring a tear of joy to this ayatollah's eye.

So I put my team of tailors and artisans to work. Their task: Turn an outfit from the toddler aisle into a Pug-O-Ween costume befitting the world's foremost canine religious scholar. It is still a work-in-progress, with further cutting and sewing required. I pray that my garb will be ready in time.

A second open letter to Mark Foley

Mr. Foley,

No, I am not just "playing hard-to-get."

Sincerely,
Mugsy
Supreme Ayatollah
Pug Life Ministries

First the Longhorns, and now this ...

It seems that my travel plans have hit a snag. I have learned that the U.S. State Department has placed my name on the terrierist watch list. This is clearly in retaliation for Pug Life's ongoing rawhide enrichment program. As I type this, my attorney is working to clear my name. But what I really want to know is: When did it become a crime to be an advocate for the disenfranchised Jack Russells and Yorkies of the world?

An open letter to Mark Foley

Mr. Foley,

Please stop e-mailing me. I am not that kind of pug.

Sincerely,
Mugsy
Supreme Ayatollah
Pug Life Ministries

Wee wall-crawler

Look at this interesting little fellow I found crawling up my garage wall today. For the second time in this blog's history, we have an opportunity to play "Name That Dinosaur." Do any of the herpetologists of the congregation know what it is? It was about two and a half inches long. I think it may be a gecko, but it did not offer me a better rate on car insurance, so I cannot be certain.

I found my reaction to spotting this creature to be a bit strange. Had I spied a spider or a snake within the confines of the ayatollah compound, I would have immediately summoned my father. He would have then shrieked and called my mother in to kill the intruder. But what did I do when I saw this lizard? I fetched my camera. For some reason, I don't mind sharing my abode with this little creature. Perhaps I can get to know this lizard and minister to its spiritual needs.

A force to be reckoned with

A Pug Lifer in Fort Worth e-mailed me this review from Sunday's paper:

TEAM PUGFORCE WOWS AT BASS HALL

By HUGH PUGH
Star-Telegram Arts Critic

In an encore performance Saturday night, Team Pugforce lifted spirits as well as heavy weights at Bass Hall.

The group, which combines feats of strength with a dogged determination to spread the message of Pug Life Ministries, performed its second straight sold-out show before an adoring Fort Worth audience. The extra show was added after thousands of fans were turned away from Friday night's show.

Those lucky enough to gain admission Saturday witnessed an unparalleled display of physical strength. One member of Team Pugforce ripped a pair of phonebooks in half in one motion. Another lifted a Volkswagen Beetle over his head. Iron pipes were bent and cinderblocks were shattered as the touring sensations performed one stunt after another.

Although the human performers provided the muscle, the ministry's canines were clearly in command. Interspersed throughout the performance were testimonials from dogs who said the ministry had greatly improved -- and in some cases saved -- their lives. And about midway through the show, Pug Life's alpha dog took the stage to deafening applause.

Ayatollah Mugsy, the ministry's charismatic founder, called on all the faithful in attendance to live according to the tenets of canine Islam. He also made repeated references to his travel fund.

Throughout the evening, turbans criss-crossed the audience, passed by a troop of young Ayatollah Mugsy Scouts. As the turbans filled with money, the girls replaced them with fresh turbans and ran the offerings onstage to be poured into a massive puggybank. Atop the puggybank was a large yellow lightbulb, set to light up once the bank had been completely filled.

"Nobody is leaving this auditorium," Mugsy barked imperiously, "until that lightbulb is illuminated."

The ayatollah's words whipped the crowd into a frenzy of religious fervor, with many in attendance -- including this reviewer -- converting to canine Islam.

Great pugs in history

I was doing some reading in preparation for my upcoming trip, learning about the storied past of Rome, when I came across a startling historical tidbit. Did you know that Romulus and Remus, the twins thought to have founded the city some 2,700 years ago, were suckled by a she-pug?

Romeward bound

My tail is wagging with great vigor, my generous flock. I recently booked a trip to Rome. I will depart in about six weeks to see the Colosseum, the Pantheon, the Trevi Fountain, the relics of the Roman Forum and many other exciting sights. And, of course, I will visit my good friend Pope Pius Pug at the Vatican. There, we will finalize plans for the Dogloo compound, which will someday be mentioned alongside the previously mentioned architectural wonders. I am also considering taking some day trips to visit some other interesting places -- possibly Venice and/or Florence. Do any of the world travelers or Italians in the congregation have any advice on what to see and do in Italy?

As you may know, trans-Atlantic flights do not come cheap. Now, more than ever, the ministry needs your financial help. So I am officially launching the Send a Pug to Italy Telethon. Team Pugforce will perform at Bass Hall in Fort Worth tonight to kick off the festivities. I have also moved the Italy-centric PayPal icon from my little-visited (and little-updated) travel blog to this page. A full 100 percent of donations will go toward Mugsy's Travel Fund, a worthy cause if ever there was one. That is right -- no wasteful administrative expenses like the Red Cross.

Donations are probably not tax-deductible, but it is worth a shot. The odds of an audit are actually quite low.

Shades of Schwarzkopf

Because of overwhelming media demand, Supreme Commander Brody has agreed to hold a news conference. Among other topics, he will discuss the tactics employed to allow a four-dog team of commandos to defeat a cadre of more than 100 power-mad, visually impaired referees at the Doggonamo Bay detention facility. For details on Brody's ingenious "Mock and Paw" strategy, visit Bull by the Horns.

Mission accomplished

I have wonderful news to report, my friends. We have freed the hostages -- every last one of them. An elite four-dog ARF commando unit infiltrated the Eugene Animal Shelter before dawn today. The squad was led by Brody the Bulldog, supreme commander of the Armed Revolutionary Forces. Given his lofty title, Brody could have directed the operation from his airborne mobile command center. But because of the gravity of this situation and the deplorable conditions in which the detainees were being held, he opted to take a more paws-on approach. You have already seen some of the humiliating treatment to which the hostages were subjected, but we also had received reports of the use of a modified Kong from which no biscuit particles could be obtained. Because of this torture at the hands of the infidels, I decided that we would deal with the diplomatic ramifications later. These poor canines had to be rescued as soon as possible.

The ARF squad inserted into the theater of operations via the Willamette River, first using an inflatable raft and then dog-paddling the final 800 meters. Once ashore, the commandos stealthily made their way to the pound at the Doggonamo Bay facility. After burrowing under the razor-wire fence, this fearsome foursome slipped into the detention center unnoticed by the shadowy consortium of crooked Pac-10 referees and University of Oregon boosters who were holding our canine brothers captive. What happened inside the pound is classified information, but suffice it to say that the hostages are all now at home with their families. All are reported to be healthy and in good spirits. Before leaving, the commandos made sure to mark the territory for the canine nation. Never again will it be used for such evil purposes. Allahu akbar!

THE STRIKEFORCE

1. BRODY
Code name: Bro
Hometown: Los Angeles
Breed: Bulldog
Education: West Point
Specialties: Barking orders, biological weapons, blob-wrestling

2. WINSTON
Code name: Disco
Hometown: Austin
Breed: Pug
Education: U.S. Naval Academy
Specialties: Naval ops, disorienting foes with circular sprinting, medic

3. CLEVELAND
Code name: C Dizzle
Hometown: San Diego
Breed: Bulldog
Education: Harvard
Specialties: Covert ops, military policing, charm offensives

4. BRAXTON
Code name: Killer
Hometown: Los Angeles
Breed: Maltese
Education: Ayatollah Mugsy's Youth Indoctrination Camp
Specialties: Demolitions, paw-to-paw combat, heavy machine-gunner