Imagine my surprise when I went to my letter box 1 twenty-four hours and establish the beautiful, hand-stamped invitation; I couldn't believe it. I had been invited to go to the esteemed "Pug Picnic." What is that, you ask? Well, the Pug Field Day have been an yearly rite here in our rural town for respective old age now. It is an chance for pug-dog proprietors from far and broad to acquire together for an afternoon of merriment and pug-dog pride.
I had only heard of this fantastic extravaganza, but knew I would never be invited. After all, I am a pug-free poodle lover. How could it be that I could be invited to this breed-specific event? Aren't pug people prejudiced against poodle dog people? Apparently not. This was quite an honor.
The favorite invitations, which appropriately had pug-dogs all over them, were a delight. They requested that invitees convey a hot dish, a lawn chair, oh, and of course, a pug. Well, there I was. What could I do? No amount of fancy grooming could turn one of my achromatic poodle dogs into a pug. But, I really wanted to attend. Surely, the hostess must cognize of my predicament; I was determined to happen a solution to this dilemma.
And so the twenty-four hours arrived of the sacred event. And, perhaps I did look a spot eager, as I was the very first 1 to arrive. Two lovely pug-dogs were romping merrily in the presence yard, acting as the laniary welcome wagon. I arrived with my hot dish, my lawn chair, and an armful of Beggin' Strips. I, of course, was prepared. What about the pug-dog you ask? Well, I brought one along, of course.
I brought my new babe in a crate, with her soft pinkish blankie and favourite treats. Penelope was her name, and oh, was she a looker. Perfective pug-dog proportionalities from caput to toe, her coloring, perfect as well. The hostess and her friends were so pleased! They patted the top of the crate cooing sweet things in pooch talking to my new baby.
Then, they each took bends eagerly peering in the presence of the crate at my new addition. Penelope, in all of her Beanie Baby glory, peered lifelessly back, letting my secret out to my new pug-dog friends. But, they didn't look to mind. They knew that I was trying my best to suit in. A poodle dog lover, in a pug-dog predicament, what else could I do?
One by one, the pug-dogs began to arrive. Their proprietors were so proud as they placed each doggie in with the pug-dog posse comitatus in the fenced presence yard. Puffing and sniffing, they ran laps around the yard, just as the human invitees made laps around the counter table.
What a expansive clip it was, listening to all of the attenders discourse their pug-dogs and why they loved the breed so much. Tales of alone fast ones and wonts were told and compared, as the pug-dogs pleaded for just one more than treat. And pictures, too: household images and grouping pictures, even images of my Penelope!
A drawing was held, and then endearing dainty bags, decorated by hand, were distributed for each of the pets present. Every last item had been tended to.
Then, before I knew it, it was over. The pug-dogs were packed away in the mini avant gardes and field day points parceled and picked up. It was finished, and Penelope and I had to head back home. I had a fantastic time, and am so grateful for being included.
Perhaps, adjacent year, if I am very lucky, I will again have a desired invitation to the Pug Picnic. But what will I state my pug-dog friends when I know, even by then, Penelope will still not be crate trained?
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