Archive for February, 2015

Pug Hunting – the conclusion

February 8, 2015 3 comments

So I was browsing some of my old posts and I realized that I left everyone hanging on something very important.  You may recall that we were contemplating becoming pug parents.  Well, we did it.  In July of 2013, we became the proud new family of Lady Penelope von Puggington (Penny if you prefer that non fancy version.  I stand by my opinion that any dog who costs as many dollars as she did gets a fancy name.)


The day we brought her home. Isn’t she tiny and adorable??

Oh, how we adore this dog.  She’s spoiled completely rotten.  However, I often feel that I entered this relationship with a lot of notions about pugs that have all now been ground to dust.  She is a handful.  Somehow I believed that pugs were pretty calm and quiet dogs.  Well, she does sleep for approximately 23 hours a day, but in that one waking hour, she seeks to destroy and conquer (and by that, I mean eat every single thing she can fit into her mouth and a few that she can’t).  So without further ado, here are ten things that I did not know about pugs.


  • They smell just awful.  You know that kind of funk that collects in your bellybutton?  Imagine if your bellybutton were on your face.  Those face crinkles are adorable, but they collect all manner of nastiness and I don’t care how often you wash a pug’s face, they are stinky.
  • They are physically incapable of keeping their tongues and teeth inside their face.  Apparently pugs have the same size tongue as any dog, just a much smaller containment area.  Her little dog lips just can’t hold it all in, and as a result, she walks around looking a fool all the time.  On the rare occasions that she can get her tongue inside, her teeth are showing and she morphs into the fantastic smiling dog.
  • They will eat anything and everything.  Not only does she feel a burning need for every scrap of food in the house, but she also enjoys eating such things as legos, rocks and my couch.  She literally ate a hole in my couch.  I mean, seriously.  Not chewing.  Eating.  She will ingest anything that she can swallow.  I think she has an eating disorder.


  • A sense of entitlement.  Let’s face it.  Pugs are freaking adorable.  I am fairly confident that there is no dog cuter on earth than my dog.  People tell her this constantly, and as a result, she has adopted the attitude of a spoiled Hollywood princess and woe betide the soul who does not bow down to her doggy highness.
  • They can run fast.  The aerodynamics here don’t even make sense.  I would no sooner expect a potato to run than a pug, but they can move.  Now, don’t get me wrong, they can’t run long, but they are some fast little suckers for a minute.  If you don’t believe me, just try to catch a pug who just stole a taco out of your daughter’s hand.
  • They manipulate people.  Don’t think for a second that she doesn’t know just how cute she is and she uses it.  Don’t want to give the dog a French fry?  Tolerate a few minutes of pitiful whisper-whines and sad face.  Her whole demeanor reminds you of how much she loves you and how she is your faithful companion and all she wants is one fry. (This is repeated with each and every fry you eat until the end of time.)
  • They can be tamed by cats.  My dog is terrified of cats.  This is mostly due to the fact that she was put in her place the moment she came into our house.  To this day, the cats will smack her on the head from time to time just as a reminder. Not that she needs it, because she has a horrified fear healthy respect for all felines.
  • They never shut up.  I had some misguided notion that pugs don’t bark a lot.  I could not have been more wrong.  This dog just LOVES the sound of her voice.
  • They don’t chew.  I can see why God would have seen fit to provide teeth for pugs, but it’s almost entirely unnecessary.  To date, the only things I have seen my dog use teeth for is chewing rawhide, the aforementioned legos, and my wall.  Food products are swallowed whole.
  • They are loyal and jealous to the point of becoming doggy stalkers.  This dog loves us so much that she can’t bear to see an empty lap, or worse, a lap with a cat in it.  She wants, nay, demands that same level of devotion in return.  Don’t get me wrong, I love my dog a lot, just not to the exclusion of all else.  I think she’s holding that against me a little.

Now, with all that said, I regret nothing.  I mean, just look at that face!


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That’s Me in the Corner

February 8, 2015 Leave a comment

Sundays are great.  Sundays I go to church and I come home feeling hopeful and renewed and ready to take on this fierce world with dignity and grace.

Then Monday comes.  Monday is the beginning of a long and exhausting week in a spiritual abyss where even a shred of morality that may dare to show itself is pounced upon and destroyed.  That’s right, the beginning of the work week.  My job is not uplifting.  Goodness is not applauded, in fact, oftentimes it’s just the opposite.  We often say, in jest, that the job kills our spirit, but in all reality, it kind of does.  We get tired way down deep in our souls and we’re surrounded by gloom and hopelessness.


I know, you suspect I’m being dramatic.  I am not.  It’s bad, it’s really, really bad.  For a long time I thought that if I were to grow spiritually that I would have to get out of there.  Now, I don’t want to imply that I don’t still want to get out of there, but God has shown me a different approach.  I accomplish nothing by running away from it.  I am called to bring something better to the workplace.  I have to hold tight to my Sunday attitude every day, no matter how much the world tries to break me.  And, oh, how it tries to break me.

So every day is my challenge.  Every day I find myself getting pulled away from the light and I fight.  I fight hard.  I catch myself before I say something nasty.  I turn the other cheek.  I look on the bright side.  Okay, so I say I do all these things and sometimes I do, but other times I fail and I do allow some of that ugliness to grab me.  It’s not easy.  But I can’t just give up and give in.  I have to keep trying to let the light in.  I have to be compassionate, even if someone might be lying to be.  I have to give people the benefit of the doubt.  I have to try to do better, because I am better, I am a child of God and it’s my duty to reflect that light on every place and every person around me.  Because that might make every place and every person better, too.

It’s hard to walk in the shadows every day and not get swallowed up in it.  It takes a conscious effort every single minute.  Is it this hard for every Christian?  I don’t know, but I suspect so.  We all live in a world filled with shadows and we all keep trying to do better.  One day someone referred to me as a “good Christian woman.”  Friends, I must be doing something better.


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New and Improved

February 1, 2015 Leave a comment

So, I’ve been away for a good long while.  This past year has been one of upheaval, and a realignment of priorities and those things tend to eat away relentlessly at my already limited free time.  I’m not going into the specifics, but it’s been tough and I’ve had little of my lighthearted voice to share with the world.  That’s all I’m going to say about that.

This blog isn’t going to be the same blog it was.  If you enjoyed what I had to say before, I hope you’ll give it a chance, but it may not be for everyone.  That’s okay.  Regardless of followers and readership or how many likes or comments (each of which I do cherish, never doubt it!), these are things I feel moved to share.  All I ask is that if you find yourself typing a whole lot of negativity in the comment box, reconsider and just move on quietly.  I’ve had more than my share of darkness in my life recently and I am over it.

So I said all that to say, I want to talk about my spiritual life.  God is changing my world in a real and tangible way and I feel that I’ve been called to share it.  I’m not here to tell anyone what they should believe or what they should do, I’m just here to share my story.  You take from it what you choose.

I’ve always been a believer.  I’ve always had some level of faith in God.  But it’s been a very long time since I’ve had a church to call home, and even when I did, it felt a lot like just going through the motions.  Not helping matters is that I’m 100% type A control freak who isn’t about to ask anyone or anything or any power for help and I’ll be snookered if I’m going to give over control of my life.  I mean, come on.  It’s MY LIFE.  I need to be at the wheel on this one, right?


Wrong, wrong, wrong.  We know what they say about good intentions, right?  That’s a fact, Jack.  All my good intentions darn near put out a welcome mat for dark forces to come into my heart.  I was bitter, angry and afraid.  All the time.  I had no joy.  And every day I felt myself falling further and further from God’s grace and it hurt and it felt helpless and scary and lonely.  I wasn’t at the wheel anymore, and whatever was driving had trashed all my good intentions and was driving straight at a cliff with no hands and eyes closed.

I bet you’re expecting me to tell you now how I went to church, and got saved and now everything’s great, right?  If only. But I did find a church. (My local peeps, if you ever find yourself with a clear schedule on a Sunday, you will never regret popping into South Boston Church of God.  If Pastor Wayne doesn’t stir something in you, then you just aren’t paying attention.  But, back to the story…)  So I found  church and I felt my spirit reawaken.  And I found, if not my joy, at least a desire to dig and scratch and work for my joy. I felt grounded again and it felt like I was pointed back in the right direction.

So here’s the scoop.  I am still angry and scared a lot.  I still struggle with the wheel sometimes.  I still wake up every day in a blind search for joy.  The difference is that now I have hope and I have faith.  Not just casual, lip service faith, but a real and encompassing faith that allows me, when things feel too overwhelming, to simply give it to God until I have the strength to take it back.  That may sound like a bunch of hokey nonsense, but believe it when I say that it’s the only thing that has kept me from curling up in a ball under the covers until it all goes away.

I will have much more to say about this, but no need in overwhelming everyone in my first post back.   I feel as though I am reintroducing myself, so I’ll keep it relatively short today.  If you’re feeling unhappy that I’m no longer writing about my daily ridiculous life, never fear, I still live in a sitcom and I shall close with this heartwarming little anecdote.

Setting: Sunday morning in church.  Mom and teenage daughter side by side in a pew.

Mom (in a furious whisper): Sit like a lady!!

Cutie (in an equally urgent whisper): I’m not a lady, I’m Batman.

Bah dah, ting!  May you each be covered in blessings until we meet again.


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