And then a hero comes along

It is not often that I hand out the ministry's prestigious Medal of Valor. It is reserved for those who display uncommon heroism or selflessness (or those who donate large sums of money or rawhide to the ministry). And so it is a fitting award for young Toby the Golden Retriever. The Maryland 2-year-old spotted his human caretaker choking on a piece of apple that had lodged in her throat. Debbie Parkhurst, 45, attempted to perform the Heimlich maneuver on herself to no avail. After she began beating on her chest, Toby took notice and took the matter into his own paws. "The next think I know, Toby's up on his hind feet and he's got his front paws on my shoulders," she recalled. "He pushed me to the ground, and once I was on my back, he began jumping up and down on my chest." Toby's Heimlich maneuver left a paw-shaped bruise on Parkhurst's chest, but it did the trick.

Toby, on behalf of the ministry and a grateful nation, I present to you the Medal of Valor. In addition, you will receive a one-year scholarship to the ministry's obedience school/madrassa in Yemen. Well done, Toby. May Allah ensure that your coat retains its luxuriant shine for many years to come.

A worthy cause

My flock, this man needs our help. Garth Flaherty is being held by police in Washington state on charges of stealing 93 pounds of women's undergarments from apartment laundry rooms. Police say that is as much as 1,500 items, making it the biggest alleged panty heist in years. Naturally, I feel a certain empathy for Flaherty. Police say the 24-year-old told them that he "had a problem." The only problem I see is a society that would jail a man for such a minor offense. Who among us has not thought about absconding with 93 pounds of women's underwear? Back in my gangsta-rapper days, that was but a few hours of chewing entertainment.

And so I intend to take young Garth under my wing. The ministry is accepting donations for his legal defense fund, and your help is urgently needed. If necessary, we will take this case all the way to the Supreme Court. Garth, if you are reading this, please contact me at once. God willing, we will beat this unfair rap.

Mugsy subpoenaed

Fear not, my flock. Your secrets are safe with me ...

WASHINGTON (AP) -- Following the House's lead, a Senate panel on Friday authorized a subpoena for a shadowy canine cleric in the ongoing investigation of the firing of eight U.S. attorneys.

"This pug knows something," said Sen. Patrick Leahy, referring to Ayatollah Mugsy. The Texas-based imam is the leader of Pug Life Ministries, and many Washington insiders believe he was instrumental in the firings.

"Every single one of the fired prosecutors was involved in building a case against the ayatollah," said Leahy, a Vermont Democrat.

One member of the Senate Judiciary Committee, speaking on condition of anonymity, said that Pug Life Ministries was being investigated on charges of tax evasion, sedition and making terrieristic threats. The tax evasion charges apparently stemmed from the for-profit ministry's assertions that it was a religious institution, and later from its assertion that it was based in the sovereign nation of "Pugistan" and was therefore not subject to U.S. tax law.

"All of the charges were dropped after the U.S. attorney firings," the source said.

An official with Pug Life Ministries said that any talk of Ayatollah Mugsy's involvement in the firings was "preposterous."

"He is but a humble imam," said the source, on condition of anonymity. "And Mugsy would never make terrieristic threats -- that's what his underlings are for."

Holy land in the making

I have exciting news, my ebullient flock. After much deliberation, the ministry's one-pug site-selection committee has chosen a location for the Dogloo compound. It is the perfect spot for this architectural wonder-to-be. We will have easy access to a major highway, to accommodate the never-ending throng of pilgrims. And we will be within 40 minutes or so of the region's two major airports.

Yes, my flock, our dream now has an address -- on Rawhide Court. Has a name ever fit so perfectly? Now we have only to take care of a few minor details, such as procuring the land and funding construction. A couple hundred homes and a pair of school campuses will have to be razed to make way for the Dogloo compound, and this may arouse a faint protest. But as anyone who has made an omelet knows, this is the price of progress. Are pilgrims likely to trek to a suburban schoolhouse five centuries hence? Of course not; it would probably not be standing by then anyway. Yet the Dogloo compound will stand for millennia upon millennia, an eternal beacon of hope and salvation for Pug Lifers everywhere. My tail wags just thinking about it. Allahu akbar!

Last call for contest

Time is running out to enter the ministry's NCAA tournament bracket challenge. The tournament starts Thursday morning (we do not consider the silly "play-in" game to be part of the tournament). The winner will get a fabulous prize from my online gift shop -- possibly a Classic Harem-Wear Thong. Or maybe, God willing, it will be something even more spectacular. Given the dearth of contestants, your odds of winning are far higher than they would be in the Mega Millions lottery. And yet the prizes are comparable, and entry to this contest, unlike the lottery, is free. Do not miss this opportunity of a lifetime.

Click here to enter.

So frustrating

I think I have one of the ringleaders of the chew-toy insurgency cornered. Unfortunately, my parents will not open the chest that he is hiding in, no matter how much I paw at it. I am considering having them locked up on treason charges.

Fill out your brackets

The ministry is sponsoring a contest to see who can pick the most games correctly in the NCAA basketball tournament. You may enter free of charge, and if you have the top score in the country, you could win $10,000. If you have the top score in the ministry (a far more likely accomplishment), you will win a prize from my online gift shop.

To enter, click here. And be sure to join the Pug Life Ministries group. All entries must be made before the tournament begins.

Day at the park

It had been a particularly grueling week at the mosque. And so it was time for some relaxation. After all, Allah had blessed us with a beautiful day. "Pack a bowl of icewater and grab a plastic bag," I barked to the humans. "We are going to the park." Central Park, not far from the ayatollah compound, is a nice slice of nature punctuated by statues of rampaging cattle and verses of cowboy poetry. Just the kind of place for a canine cleric to unwind.

And unwind I did. I roamed the trail. I sniffed the cacti. I even met a lovely canine near one of the park's bubbling fountains. She was nervous at first, perhaps stifled by her non-Muslim upbringing. But as I told her of my vision for Pugistan, she began to warm to me. Her tail was soon wagging as vigorously as mine.

Finally, I bid farewell and made my way toward the pugmobile. My new friend cried and whimpered. She strained at her leash, not ready to see me go. "Keep Allah in your heart and rawhide in your mouth," I barked, "and I shall always be close at paw."

Relentless

As daylight began to creep through the blinds of my bed chamber, a premonition came to me. My sleep grew fitful as this dark prophecy was revealed. My legs flailed. Then I awoke with a start, the vision complete: My father was soon going to be ill. Such is the burden of my great spiritual awareness. This was terrible news. For when the humans are ill, they slack off in their walking duties. And when I don't get a chance to walk the neighborhood, I don't get to spread my message of peace and rawhide. Nor do I get to leave presents for the rival canine cleric down the street. "No, this would be unacceptable," I thought. "I cannot allow illness to infiltrate the ayatollah compound."

Thus began my quest for Saturday. I sat on father's lap as he watched a basketball game. I was looking for an opening. "Why don't you ever wear midriff-baring shirts?" I barked. "What's that?" he replied. "You want to go outside?"

"Your linguistic shortcomings are appalling," I barked back. Perhaps I would have to wait for another time to reach his navel, where I could deliver my healing saliva.

A few hours later, I caught father in a playful mood. I snapped at his hands and ran circles around him. Then I sprinted to the bedroom, leading him along. I rounded the edge of the bed at breakneck speed, challenging him to try to catch me. Then I saw an opening. I pounced at his midsection, nudging at his shirt. "What are you doing, Mugsy?" he asked, laughing. He pushed me away. But I was not to be denied. Again, I lunged forward, pinning him down with my powerful paws. "It is time for the laying on of tongues ritual," I barked. "Resistance is futile." I began the ritual as my father shrieked in horror. Or perhaps he was just laughing hysterically. My eyes briefly met his. "Don't you ever wash this thing?" I barked, swallowing a piece of lint. Then I finished the ritual and moved on to mother's belly button. True, she was not part of my premonition. But better safe than sorry.

Mugsy demands apology

An attorney challenging the authority of the city's police chief in Fostoria, Ohio, wants the department's police dog to appear in court as an exhibit, because he says the dog and the chief have criminal justice degrees from the same online school. The issue gives "one pause, if not paws, for concern" about what it takes to get the degrees from the school based in the Virgin Islands, Gene Murray wrote in a court document filed Monday. Both police Chief John McGuire and Rocko, who is listed as John I. Rocko on his diploma, are graduates of Concordia College and University, according to copies of diplomas that are part of Murray's motion.

Frankly, I find this attorney's insinuation insulting. And as a leading civil rights leader, I feel it is my duty to demand an apology on behalf of Rocko. I finished at the top of my class at PetSmart and at my madrassas in Pakistan and Yemen. And in doing so, I had to work twice as hard as the humans to overcome the widespread bias against canines. This police dog should be commended for his accomplishments in higher education, not subjected to ridicule and baseless suspicion.

A mighty wind

Good morning, denizens of Pug Life. Today, I must tell you about a mighty wind. A mighty, relentless wind that some of you in this part of the country may have encountered over the weekend. The sky was a disturbing shade of brown as unending gusts battered the ayatollah compound, shearing trees and toppling basketball goals. This dust bowl was like something from The Grapes of Wrath. And truth be told, I strongly considered packing the family up in a jalopy and heading for California. Why did I stay? Because I feared the jalopy would be blown off the road.

We began to hear noises on the roof. One, then another. The electricity flickered on and off. Then we heard a crash. "I must go check on this," I barked, as I tethered my leash to a sturdy indoor object to avoid going airborne. Once outside, I meandered around debris and peered up at the roof. Sections of shingles were peeling away like the lid of a sardine can. "This is not good," I barked to myself as I rushed back inside. After placing a call to the insurance company to reserve my place in a long queue, I realized that there was nothing more I could do. For the next 10 hours or so, the tempest raged. The 60 mph winds continued to wreak havoc on my roof.

"If it must be replaced," I thought, "perhaps it can be improved upon." So I began to research. Ultimately, I decided that a replica of the Pantheon's dome would suit the compound well. True, I would have to stop leaving the mail on my kitchen's island, lest it be drenched in a downpour. But the aesthetic value would surely make up for any inconveniences caused by the hole in the roof. Now, I wonder if the homeowners' association will approve ...

Support our troops

Press Release

February 21, 2007

Pug Life Patriots Embracing New Vehicle Ribbons

DALLAS -- Pug Life Ministries (NYSE: PUG) announced today the wild success of its new fawn-colored patriotic vehicle ribbons.

The ribbons help motorists remember the troops who are serving in the ongoing war against chew-toy aggression.

Made from 100 percent natural pug fur from Supreme Ayatollah Mugsy, the ministry's leader and spiritual beacon, the ribbons are available in a limited edition first printing of 500.

Some consumers have expressed dismay, unable to find the fast-selling symbols of canine nationalism.

So ministry officials, always attuned to the needs of the marketplace, say they are prepared to tap into the Ayatollah Compound's baseboards to attain enough fur for a second printing of 1,000 additional ribbons.

Spitting images?

Visit www.myheritage.com to try out this facial recognition Web site. The results can be rather interesting, if not altogether accurate. Frankly, I was shocked that Jude Law wasn't in my Top 8.

Is Cupid an infidel?

Happy Valentine's Day, my beloved flock. As I was being chauffeured to the mosque this morning, I heard a local radio host say that Muslims do not celebrate Valentine's Day. He cited as evidence a cleric in Indonesia who declared that it is forbidden to celebrate the holiday. Why this host would make such a blanket statement based on the pronouncement of one man, I do not know. Some Christians like to dance with poisonous snakes, yet I do not attribute such behavior to all of them. (However, on a side note, I am pleased to announce that Pug Life Ministries' new Christian Fundamentalist Serpent Handlers wing will conduct its first service on Feb. 25.)

If this radio host had been a regular reader of my blog, he would have seen the romantic poem I posted last year for the many Valentines in my harem. You see, it is true that Valentine's Day is not sanctioned in the Quran. But neither is it expressly forbidden.

What is the harm in celebrating this holiday? Clearly, there is none. As the Beatles once sang, "All you need is love." This is not true, of course, as love does not build lavish Dogloo-shaped religious shrines or gold-plated statues of a steed-mounted ayatollah. But love is certainly not a bad thing. I am a pug of great passion. I love the ladies of my harem. I love treats, which go paw in paw with Valentine's Day. And I even love an occasional flower, which -- in a pinch -- can be every bit as tasty as a treat.

Big Top Mugsy

I went to see Cirque du Soleil this weekend at Dallas' Fair Park, not far from the scene of my Cotton Bowl triumph last year. I really enjoyed the show, especially the first half. I was not really sure what to expect and thought that perhaps the performance would consist of naked Frenchmen eating baguettes and cartwheeling around the stage. I am pleased to report that there was none of that. Instead, Cirque du Soleil offered an often jaw-dropping feast for the eyes. Not quite as satisfying as a feast for the belly, perhaps, but not bad. Not bad at all.

The performers pulled off some amazing feats. Among the most impressive were some who got inside large rings (imagine a 7-foot-diameter hula hoop) and spun around the stage in a manner that would make even a newly bathed pug dizzy. The show also featured a tiny woman tethered to oversized helium-filled balloons who was batted around by the crowd like a beach ball.

For all its creativity and its vague storyline about a dead clown, Cirque du Soleil's Corteo was at its heart a circus. With acrobats and trapeze artists and clowns, it brought back memories of my own brief stint as a circus performer. The ups, the downs, the cameraderie. But I don't want to bore you; I am sure nobody in the congregation wants to hear about those bygone days.

Here comes the rain again

Many of you have no doubt heard about Punxsutawney Phil, the weather-forecasting groundhog. But did you know that there is a pug who predicts rainfall? And not only that, she is far more trustworthy than most TV meteorologists -- and certainly more so than any who wear bow ties. Today's lesson, class, is about Mattie the pug.

Mattie, a 6-year-old, made her annual prognostication at last Saturday's Pacific Northwest Rain Festival in Bellingham, Wash. Publicity chairperson Taimi Dunn Gorman told the Seattle Times that the event is "one of the shortest festivals in the world. An hour, maybe a little more. The pug is felt, then everyone heads off to drink or get something to eat."

And that is the highlight: The annual feeling of the pug (pictured above). As anxious festivalgoers watch with rapt attention, the event's Reigning Queen lifts Mattie from underneath an awning and thrusts her out into the elements. Mattie's fur is then felt for moisture. Wet fur means six more weeks of rain. But last week's event found Mattie with dry fur, and hence the Pacific Northwest can expect another seven weeks of rainfall.

In an affirmation of Mattie's uncanny prognosticating prowess, precipitation soon followed.

For more details on the festival, click here.

The soundtrack of our lives

Let us all take a moment of silence for Frankie Laine. The "Rawhide" singer passed away Tuesday at age 93. He sang it; we canines live it. Peace be upon you, Frankie.

Peyton who?

The big day is finally here. It is time to marvel at the exploits of some of the world's elite athletes as they seek dominance on the gridiron. It is a time when legends are made. Yes, Puppy Bowl III begins at 2 p.m. central time today on Animal Planet. The game will be rebroadcast throughout the day. The network spares no expense in its presentation, using even submerged water-bowl cams to ensure that we get to see all the action. The Puppy Bowl will once again have a kitty halftime show, and afterward, the network will air a puppy tailgate party. May Allah watch over the participants, and may the best team win.

Paw-eye coordination

I have become fixated on this game, which is used to train pilots in the ARF Air Force. I hear the fighter pilots can last two minutes or longer.

Progress, at last

Our fight for canine rights produced some heartening results this week, my enlightened flock. Hot on the heels of news that more and more firefighters are carrying oxygen masks for pets -- a prudent move, in this ayatollah's always-humble opinion -- came a landmark decision in Dallas. The City Council, best known for childish bickering and its ability to make race the central focus of any discussion, finally got something right. Dallas food establishments can now take steps to legally allow dogs on their property. Having a keen interest in food and all things food-related, I have made this one of my pet projects. And so I am most pleased to see my dreams come to fruition. Never again will I dine on a Deep Ellum restaurant patio illegally, in danger of losing my freedom at any second. Praise Allah! I am getting hungry just thinking about it.

But we cannot stop there. Canines are still treated like second-class citizens in far too many areas. So I call on the Dallas City Council to go even further. We canines want to be allowed in all stores, with the exception of Wal-Mart, which the humans can keep for themselves. We want puppy classes to be subsidized by tax dollars, just like public schools for humans. And we demand full voting rights. Make it happen.

Back in the fold

At long last, the hostage ordeal is over. Mallard, my faithful assistant and friend, is back at the ayatollah compound. I received a tip last night on his whereabouts and immediately departed to look for him. Mallard was tied to a railroad track several dozen miles west of Fort Worth, just as the anonymous tipster had said. A train was bearing down on him. I knew I had to act quickly, and yet it all seemed too easy. "Mugsy!" Mallard quacked. "Don't do it! Run!" Just as I suspected; it was a trap. Blue Bull was trying to lure me out into the middle of nowhere so that he could assassinate me and enslave the Pug Life population in his Godless communist labor camps. But if I didn't act, my friend would be run over by a speeding locomotive. Countless marathon chewing sessions had taught me that Mallard was one tough bird. But that tough? I didn't think so. Disregarding my own safety, I sprang into action. What happened next, you ask? I regret that I cannot say. But I am in negotiations to sell the exclusive movie rights to filmmaker Michael Bay, so perhaps you will someday see it on the big screen.

Giving back to the community

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

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

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

On edge

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

Casualties of war

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

Dispatch from the front lines

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

WAR REPORT

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



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


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


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

Required reading

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

Back in the saddle

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

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

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

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

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

Allahu Akbar!

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

Last chance to join the revolution

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

The ministry is mine

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

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

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

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

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

The choice is yours.

Red alert!

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

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