DOES. NOT. COMPUTE.

Today my dad said something that my little pug brain could not understand. I tried my usual technique of tilting my cranium to the left…

And then flopping it over to the right.

I then repeated the steps a few more times, but I still could not process what he meant when he said, “We need to buy more baby carrots because we ran out.

Um, what does that mean exactly?

Or do I not want to know?

Les Feuilles Mortes

The leaves have finally started changing color in a major way here in Chicago so I figured it was about time for a new seasonally-appropriate masthead as you loyal Pug Slopers have come to expect.

I was finally able to appease Sid after his “Poop Strike” on Halloween, but it took a large quantity of his favorite treats. We’re talking a steady flow of apple chunks, peanut butter, baby carrots, and venison jerky. I think I finally got him back on my side (for how long, I do not know).

We ventured out to the park for Sid’s early morning stroll and snapped a few photos while we were there. The colors were amazing.

Sid loved rummaging through the fallen leaves. I suppose they either smelled really interesting or he thought they might be hiding some giant stockpile of treats underneath.

So what do you think of the new masthead?

Hallowhere’s Ma Treatz?

Halloween is just a big tease. Humans everywhere, especially the tiny ones that poke at your eyes and try to grab your tail are practically DROWNING in treats. But what have I got? Just a photo of myself in a costume that’s a bit too snug in certain areas (memo to self: have Dad let out waist of Halloween costume).

My Dad brought home this gigantic bag of Monster Munch. I mean the stuff sounds amazing, right? Plus it’s made of potatoes which I’m pretty sure I can eat. However, he ate the ENTIRE BAG HIMSELF! I didn’t get to try even ONE FLIPPIN’ MUNCH!

This is outrageous.

Since it’s been raining all day today, I thought it’d be the perfect day to stage a Poop Strike. What’s a Poop Strike you ask? Oh, why it’s only the BEST WAY TO GET BACK AT YOUR HUMAN FOR SWINDLING YOU OUT OF YOUR FAIR SHARE OF MONSTER MUNCH. I’m going to make sure it’s raining hard when we go out for our evening walk. And then we’ll walk and walk and walk some more. By this point my Dad will be SOAKED TO THE BONE. And guess what I’m NOT going to do? Yep. Poop. It’s the sure way to drive a human bonkers. If any of you other pugs out there got the shaft this Halloween I suggest you do the same. And if you DID get TONS OF TREATS, maybe you could, you know, mail me some? Pretty please?

Wordless Wednesday: Capsized Edition

It’s Getting Stuffy In Here

This past weekend, two flat-faced fawn snort-beasts showed up on the doorstep of Pug Slope H.Q. They must have been brothers because they bore an uncanny resemblance to one another.

In an unusual show of generosity, Sid invited the smaller of the two pugs to play with his Wigzi ball.

The small pug didn’t respond. Sid was baffled. Sure, he had already thoroughly cleared the Wigzi’s pockets of all treats and peanut butter, but still, didn’t the tiny dude want to even sniff it a little? Had he never seen a toy before?!

Sid tried to sniff the little guy’s butt to see what was up, but the lack of any stink quickly confirmed Sid’s suspicion: this non-stinking-butt guy had NO PERSONALITY WHATSOEVER.

Sid’s attention shifted to the bulkier big brother. Perhaps this guy had some interesting stories to tell. Perhaps he was an adventurer, a rule-breaker. Perhaps he had munched upon delicacies more scrumptious than Sid could ever imagine.

NOPE.

Sid’s official conclusion was that the pair were a couple of “total duds”. He then proceeded to show them the door.

Sourpuss

Sid and I are downright perturbed that Winter decided to come early to the Midwest this year. It was just last weekend that we were strolling through the park, enjoying the turning of the leaves, and now this:

Time to break out the wool coats, gloves, and Sid’s box of winter wear. Any of you Slopers in more clement climates looking for the company of a mustachioed human and an adorable carrot-loving pug? Let us know. It might be time for a road trip.

Pug-Nosed

I don’t know why the term “pug-nosed” has a bad connotation. There aren’t too many things cuter than a pug’s nose.

Have a great weekend, Pug Slopers!