Pugs Day at the Vet or Mom Needs Wine

Let’s just say that the Pugs like to stay home, chill on the couch, enjoy a few snacks during the day, eat a hearty supper about 4:30, then go to bed.  What they do not like to do is go to the vet.  Or go riding in the car.  Or go for a walk.  Well they don’t like much of anything that requires any effort on their part.

But it is that time of year again when they had to get their rabies shots.  And being the responsible single parent that I am, I snuck around and got their leash out of the drawer.  Then I found them asleep on the bed, closed the door and snapped their joint leash on.  That is where the fun began.  As soon as I paused to get my purse, they both began to frantically wind around and around and around my ankles.

IMG_1225

Do not be fooled by those sweet, innocent little faces.  That leash is really long and by looking at what is left of it, you can guess how many times it is wrapped around my ankles.  Okay, sit purse down, unwind Duke.  Then as soon as I start to unwind Daisy, Duke starts back around the other way.  Ten minutes later, we are finally in the car.  I am exhausted.

IMG_1227

They are the only dogs I have ever had that hated to ride in the car.  You cannot make them get up in the seat.  This is Daisy, Duke is hiding behind her with his head under the seat.  As you can tell by her tongue hanging out, the minute they got in the car they began panting like they had just run a 5k.  It is only 10 mins to the vets, but with every minute, they got louder and louder.  My singing did not help, but then it never helped calm the kids down either, come to think of it!

Before we go in, I tell them the truth, yes, you are going to get a shot, but if you are good, I have a treat for when we get back in the car.  Not impressed at all.  As I wrangle and wrestle them up the steps, Duke goes under the handrail and Daisy goes around the other way, promptly starting a Maypole effect in full view of everyone.  Other pet owners pass by us laughing, glad we could provide some comic relief to your day, you’re most welcome.

Several minutes later, unwound, we make it in to the desk.  I am sweating, they are breathing, rasping, gasping even louder.  Their little pug eyes are bugging out and they don’t blink at all.  “Rabies shots, Duke and Daisy” is all I manage to get out before a big lab enters the office and the pugs go ballistic.  I promptly move over to the other side to await what is sure to be an ordeal with the shots.

Strangely enough, they are perfect little angels when the vet walks in.  Not a whimper, not a growl, not a bark, they are the most docile little pugs in the universe.  I however, am covered in pug fur and sweating like I had just run a 5k.

As we get to the desk, I spy a treat jar that says calms stress.  Hmmm, I ask do they work and if so, can I take two of them?  And possibly one for me also????  Sadly, they were just for display.

IMG_1228

So after posing for a pic to let the kids know that we survived the ordeal, we get in the car and I give them the promised treat.  They both snub their noses at it, as if I was a stranger offering them candy.  But once home, they grabbed the snacks, ran around like crazy and just to show that there was no hard feelings:  I caught Duke in the closet starting to hike his legs on my clothes.

Being a responsible single pug mom is a thankless job for sure.

hello, it’s mom

Hello, it’s mom
I was wondering if after all these days you’d like to see
How I’m doing, today
They say that time apart is good for most
But I ain’t done much but eating

Hello, can you hear me
I’ve been stuck inside this house for days oh what a treat
I’m snowbound, with the pugs
I’ve forgotten how it felt before the sky dropped at my feet

There’s such a distance between us
And now there’s lots of snow

Hello from the other side
I must have text a thousand times
To tell you I’m fine and surviving it all
But when I text you never seem to see it at all

Hello from the inside
At least I can say that I’ve tried
To tell you we’re fine, and surviving the storm
But it don’t matter it clearly doesn’t worry you none-anymore

Hello, its mom
It’s so typical of me to think about myself, I’m sorry
I hope that you’re well
Did you ever make it out to the store to get some bread and milk
It’s no secret that the both of us are running out of both.

So hello from the inside
I must have text a thousand times
To tell you I’m fine and surviving the storm
But when I text you seem to be away from the phone

Hello from the inside
At least I can say that I’m fine
And tell you I’m sorry for bothering you
But it don’t matter, it clearly doesn’t worry you much anymore

Oooh anymore oooh anymore
Oooh anymore
Anymore

Hello from the inside,
I must have text a thousand times
To tell you I’m fine and surviving the storm
But when I text you’re never near to the phone

Hello from the inside
At least I can say that I’ve tried
To tell you I’m fine and surviving the storm
But it don’t matter, it clearly doesn’t worry you much anymore

snow pic

Forgive me, I’ll blame it on Cabin Fever!

Fleamageddon or Fleapocalypse ’16

What are these guys, mutant fleas?  Fleas with super powers?  These fleas refuse to die!  Or maybe they do die and are coming back as zombie fleas.  It is like night of the living dead fleas around here.

I have washed the pugs so many times in Dawn dishwashing liquid that they squeak when they walk and my fingertips look like old prunes.

I can’t sleep due to the constant scratch, thump, scratch, thump as the pugs use their short little legs to try to get at their tormentors.  It is pushing us all to our breaking point.

One of the worst parts is that with all the washing and cleaning I have missed out on hours of Netflix.  How will I ever get those hours back now?  Darn those fleas!

I have washed, bleached and vacuumed more times than I can count and yet they still return.  They are like a flea army that retreats but only goes out for more recruits and returns to fight again.

Did I mention that I am a recovering germ-a-phobe?  No, well I am and this is giving me a major setback.  I think I may need to find a Germ-a-phobic Anonymous meeting very soon.

hazmat-suit-in-pink

Today I gave up and called in the big guns.  Yes, I called my vet.  With great embarrassment, I admitted that I apparently was a horrible, irresponsible pug owner.  What humiliation.  I cannot defeat a mere flea?  Oh my pride.

But apparently I am not the only person with this Fleapocalypse in town, for they knew just what to do.  And while I left with $$$ on my credit card, I was, however, armed to the teeth with weapons to fight the encroaching flea army.  They even wrote down step by step instructions along with lots of encouragement to get me through this battle.

I rush home and cover the pug pills with peanut butter and give them Step 1.  A super, duper flea zapper.  For 24 hours it will kill any flea residing on them.  So outside they go for four hours to de-flea.  I start the first of MANY loads of laundry.  Then on to Step 2-spray the house.  Of course, I didn’t try to open the windows until I had already sprayed.  I found I was too weak from afore mentioned spray that I was too weak to pry the windows open.  So I fled in haste to the nearest coffee shop to wait it out.

Four hours later, with the charge on both my phone and Ipad dwindling, I head home to rescue the POPS or better know as the Pissed Off Pugs.  And yes they were definitely POPS.  I add another load to the washer and let in the POPS.  They are still scratching, but patience, patience.

Tomorrow morning, Step 3, the POPS get yet another bath.  Then its drying time again, for some reason these little pugs take forever to dry and they are terrified of a hair dryer.  So tomorrow evening they will get their new flea/tick collars, Step 4, that set me back a grocery trip, but its worth it.

2d0ea43ab6194c45e90a40ead2b8794d

Step 5, I vacuum the house and since it freaks me out a little, I am going to just toss out old vacuum and all.  Why chance it?

Step 6, Sunday morning, I once again vacuum with new vacuum cleaner that I have since had to buy.  Clean the house from top to bottom AGAIN.  Put more loads in the washer AGAIN.

By Sunday evening, I will either:

A.  Be victorious in my fight against the Zombie Fleapocalypse

B.  Have the cleanest house this side of the Cumberland River

C.  Be passed out from exhaustion

D.   All of the above.

I am hoping for A and B, and know for sure I will be C.

So Fleas, I have come prepared to fight.  The battle lines have been drawn.  Give up now, before any more of your comrades sacrifice their lives in this futile battle.  I will not give up, I am taking back my house!

dog-with-fleas-humorous-domestic-animals-collar-cartoon