Everything is just ducky

OK, I had a premonition that something bad was going to happen before the year ended, but it looks like we're almost in the clear. Everything seems calm and quiet around the ministry, so I guess I was just being a worrywart. Sorry if I alarmed anyone. Happy New Year, everybody. May 2007 bring the return of a newly sober Ayatollah Mugsy.
- Mallard

Still no word from the ayatollah

Hey everybody, it's Mallard again. I haven't been able to get ahold of Ayatollah Mugsy in over a week. I even fired up the searchlight in our back yard to try to contact his alleged alter-ego, but he never called. I heard a rumor that Mugsy's roommate at the rehab facility is Tawny Kitaen. That must be very traumatic for him, so I don't want to put any unnecessary stress on him. Those panty-addiction demons can be tough to defeat -- or so I've heard -- and the ayatollah needs to take his time and get well.

But I'm really starting to get worried. I can't quite put my feather on it, but something just isn't right here at the ministry. I know, I know -- I could just be reacting to the void left in my life by the absence of my mentor and spiritual adviser. I'm sure you're all going through the same thing. But I think it's more than that. Maybe it's my avian intuition, or maybe I'm just being a Chicken Little, but I have a feeling that something bad is going to happen in the next few days. Something very bad.

Odd happenings

Mugsy, if you read this, please call me on the hotline ASAP. Something strange is going on at the ministry.
- Mallard

Tabloid trash

This is Mallard, coming to you with great reluctance. But I am the ayatollah's servant, so I will do as he says. Mugsy sent me a telegram informing me that he has reached Step 5 in his 12-step recovery program. "Admit to God, to ourselves and to another the exact nature of our wrongs." And so rather than have the ministry try to cover this up, as we would normally do, he has asked me to post an image of this tabloid trash. It nearly breaks my heart to see the ayatollah so viciously maligned. I mean, these photos are clearly taken out of context. That stupid feline paparazzi; I knew we should have waterboarded him for the sake of national security.

But the ayatollah says to post it, so I'll post it. Oh, Mugsy, please come back soon.

Details emerge

Mallard here. I've been going back and forth over whether to post this. I can't get ahold of the ayatollah to get his approval. But I figure he'd be OK with it; he did give me his Blogger password. I know I'm interested in hearing all the info I can on his condition, so I figure you would be, too. So here's this story I found:

DALLAS -- (NYT) The canine religious community was reeling Friday after news broke that Ayatollah Mugsy, the charismatic leader of Pug Life Ministries, had checked into an undisclosed rehab facility.

In a post on his blog, The Ayatollah's Teachings, the pug icon wrote that he was seeking treatment for substance abuse.

According to a source within the ministry, the substance in question is women's undergarments.

"Mugsy's wrestled in the past with these demons," said the source, who asked to remain anonymous. "Before he found Allah, he was a well-known pantyhound. He even did time in the pound because of it."

The ayatollah chronicled his battle with underwear chewing in his official autobiography. In Chapter IV, he wrote about his harrowing descent into addiction, describing himself as "a junkie, pure and simple." The cleric, formerly a platinum-selling recording star, said his fame gave him unfettered access to undergarments. "I was like a slightly less wrinkly Tom Jones," he wrote. "Every night, women would fling their panties onto the stage."

In Chapters V and VI, Mugsy detailed how his addiction led him to commit large-scale panty larceny during a Mary Kay Cosmetics convention in Dallas. He was convicted and served time for the offense.

Representatives of Mary Kay declined to comment.

A mailing from Victoria's Secret offering a free pair of panties may have contributed to the mullah's relapse, quacked another source at the ministry, on the condition of anonymity.

"I guess he had been under a lot of stress anyway, as the spiritual adviser to millions. Well, then he saw that postcard, and he just snapped," the source said. "The next thing I knew, he was burrowing through the laundry pile, salivating, wildly looking for something to chew."

Other celebrities who have battled undergarment addiction include Robin Williams, James Carville and Dr. Laura.

Rosie outlook

This is Mallard again. The ayatollah sent me a telegram from rehab and asked me to post the following statement for him:

As a Chinese pug, I urge my fellow Asian-Americans to forgive Rosie O'Donnell for her recent comments. Though her attempt at humor may have missed the mark, I do not believe she meant any disrespect.

Mugsy also mentioned contacting Ms. O'Donnell to see if she'd be interested in joining his harem. I'm really starting to worry about him ...

Mugsy enters rehab

This is Mallard, the ayatollah's aide-de-camp. Mugsy is going to be away from his blogging station for a while, but he asked me to post a statement. He said it was important that you hear the news here first. Here is Mugsy's statement:

On Thursday evening, I entered a rehab facility for treatment of substance abuse. Leading the world's largest interfaith, interspecies ministry is a gargantuan task, and in recent months I have been under a tremendous amount of stress. Over the last few days, I reached something of a breaking point. I was pushed over the edge by my negative blog review on Frogmyblog.com and a trip to Wal-Mart in which I went to the "Speedy, 10 Items or Less Lane" and had to wait while the woman in front of me bought 45 stuffed animals. In my distressed state, not even my imported Italian Biscroks could console me. So I sought solace in my addictions. I hope that you will be patient as I work through these issues of substance abuse. Only by overcoming my weaknesses can I prove myself worthy of the mantle of leadership.

You win some, you lose some

After appealing for your ballot-stuffing help a couple of weeks ago, I have been remiss in not officially announcing the results of Dogmark's Cool Dog of the Month contest. Thanks to your help and the guiding paw of almighty Allah, we have triumphed. To those of you who voted: Thank you for your support. This win nearly restored my faith in democracy.*

* Though I do still think it would be best for Pugistan to be a theocratic dictatorship.

Although this blog was victorious in the Dogmark contest, it did not fare so well in another arena. A few months ago, I submitted The Ayatollah's Teachings for review by Frogmyblog.com. It has come to my attention that the review is in, and it is not pretty. As you will see, the teacher (that would be me) received a failing grade. My biggest sin? Lack of originality.

According to the reviewer, I am just the latest pug to jump into the "pet blogging fad." And all this time, I thought human blogging was a bigger trend. This negative review has wounded me to my very core. Can I continue? Can I go on teaching, knowing that I am an "F" student? Frankly, I do not know. I will have to pray on it.

To read the source of my immense angst and shame, click here.

My brother

Good day to you, beloved zealots of Pug Life. I hope that Allah has been smiling upon you. He was surely smiling upon me a few days ago when he blessed me with a new brother, if only for a few hours. Let me now tell you the story. I had just emerged from my monthly bath, so naturally I wanted nothing more than to run wild circles in the back yard and rub my newly clean fur in the leaves. I was doing just that, working off my pent-up bathtime energy, when I heard a faint yap. Across the street stood a tiny white dog, his fur matted and slightly dirty. I halted my whirling-dervish routine and went with my parents to check on this little fellow. It only took a biscuit to lure him to us, and we soon found that he was wearing no collar, no tag.

My mother took this poor street dog inside the ayatollah compound while my father and I looked around for a human caretaker. We saw only a band of roving street urchins, who promptly ran when they spotted us. Using my highly trained sniffing skills, I tracked them to their back yard, just up the creek from our house. We interrogated the urchins and found that they had no knowledge of the canine's home, although they did say they had seen him out wandering the day before. After warning the little scamps not to disturb my neighborhood markings or seek to outdo them, I brought my father back to the house to check on the young fellow. Upon closer inspection, we determined that he was, in fact, a he. And a maltese, as well, we suspected. He was eager to eat and drink, and so being a charitable ministry, we obliged him.

My mother went out to see if she could find any signs posted related to this maltese, while I began to speak to him to try to find some answers. At first, he appeared a bit scared. Although I am no large dog, I positively dwarfed him. And he was no doubt intimidated by my commanding presence. But he soon warmed to me, and we took turns chasing each other in the back yard. Afterward, we went back inside to study the Quran.

My mother's search for the rightful caretaker bore no fruit, and we began to think that this charming pup might need a new home. I contemplated this -- was I ready to have a brother? Was I willing to share my rawhide? I believe the answer was yes on both counts. "You will need a name," I told my new brother, whose language skills were not as developed as mine. "I think we will call you Caligula -- Cal, for short."

Well, to make a long story no longer than it needs to be, Cal did not become my permanent roommate. My parents found his caretakers later that evening, in a house not far from my own. But Cal, if you are reading this, know that you will always be my brother.

Travel blog updated

I have updated my travel blog with photos from my recent trip to Rome, and I invite you to take a break from your rigorous religious instruction and have a look. Click here to visit The Ayatollah's Travels.

Tabloid disaster averted

After hours of intense interrogation, my security forces have determined that the feline interloper was a paparazzi photographer who was staking out my compound. The Revolutionary Guard confiscated and destroyed his digital camera, which included several ... shall we say, undignified shots of me exiting Paris Hilton's car. Thank Allah, they will never see the light of day.

Security breach

As I have detailed before, a feline intruder has been hanging around the ayatollah compound. I often see him conducting surveillance from the street, and sometimes he even ventures into my yard. When he realizes he has been sighted, he flees. This has been an ongoing security concern for the ministry. Although we have nothing against cats, per se, this lurking fellow is quite clearly up to no good. So I have some excellent news to report: We have found the secret lair of this feline interloper.


During a routine patrol, my elite Revolutionary Guard security detail found him in this hidden bunker, beneath the curb beside my property. Unfortunately, the Guardsmen are all bulldogs and are thus too rotund to fit into the spider hole. We have called in a special team of dachshund spelunkers to investigate these catacombs and determine the extent of the security breach. God willing, we will smoke this feline out of his hole before sundown.

Better late than never

As promised, here is your long-overdue reminder to vote early and often for The Ayatollah's Teachings as Dogmark's "Cool Dog Site of the Month." With November nearly over, little time remains to stuff the ballot box. But perhaps, God willing, we can still pull this off. A win might help steer additional traffic to this blog, allowing me to reach the hearts and wallets of a new generation of Pug Lifers.

I am not above political patronage, and your loyalty may very well pay off with a plum appointment in the Pugistan government.

CLICK HERE to view the ballot.

Lacking book smarts

I ventured out to my city's new library today. The impressive building, open only a few months, is a vast improvement over the tiny facility it replaced. Though it does not quite rival this blog as a repository of knowledge, the city library is impressive nonetheless, and I stop by two or three times a month to enjoy the resplendent fruits of my tax dollars at work. But this was no ordinary trip to the library. As I neared the great reading room, normally a peaceful place, I heard a booming voice. A man was talking loudly on his cell phone. I moved forward in dismay and disbelief to survey the room's nonfiction wares. And as I looked, he yapped. On and on it went, an entire conversation for all the reading public to hear. My tail quickly lost its curl.

Now I ask you this, my alarmed flock: Who among us did not learn as a child or puppy or other youthful being that the library is meant to be a quiet place? How can one be so lacking in couth as to defy this most basic of tenets? Was this man raised by wolves? Such an assumption would hardly seem fair, for I have yet to find a lupine creature so lacking in manners.

Certainly we can overlook the occasional vocal indiscretions of a child, who may not know any better. But a grown man? Clearly, this infidel was openly defying the proper social order -- not to mention the fatwa I delivered at the 2004 Canine Clerics Convention in Damascus. So lest anyone witness such behavior and think it the norm, let me reiterate that fatwa for you now: It is absolutely forbidden to make undue noise at a public library. If you must speak, speak in a quiet voice, a whisper even --- as you were no doubt taught in grade school. And unless it is an emergency, take the cell phone calls outside. This deplorable behavior must not be tolerated, and so long as I am supreme ayatollah of Pug Life Ministries, it will not be.

Do not make me issue a fatwa ...

I am watching "The National Dog Show" on NBC, and frankly, I am appalled. Several of the human contestants are picking up their dogs by the tail and leash (ie, the throat). This is no way to pick up a canine. I expect to see some proper support given for these worthy contestants. Get a hand under the body -- there are more important things in life than maintaining those ridiculous fur-dos.

Happy Thanksgiving

On this Thanksgiving Day, it is time to reflect on some of the blessings of the last year. Though there have been trying times, I am still one fortunate pug.

• I am thankful for my rugged good looks and chiseled physique, which allow me to be undeniably masculine even in a duck suit.
• I am thankful for the ever-growing congregation of Pug Life Ministries. You, my dear readers, are the wind beneath my duckling wings.
• I am thankful for Pug Life's research into enriched rawhide, which promises a brighter tomorrow for canines everywhere.
• I am thankful that the ministry's IRS troubles have, for the time being, been put behind us.
• I am thankful for my wily accountant, formerly of Arthur Andersen.
• I am thankful that my mother cleans the sludge from my eyes. Without her, I would never know its exquisite taste.
• I am thankful for Borat, for inspiring me on my recent vacation to proclaim, "I will not move to a smaller room!" every time I entered the hotel elevator.
  
• I am thankful for Bob Stoops.
• I am thankful for my online gift shop, whose high-quality, sweat-shop-produced merchandise is set to become the must-have stocking-stuffer item of this holiday season.
• I am thankful for my boundless albeit irrational optimism.

On U.S. soil again

I am back in Texas, having returned last night weary but satisfied after a wonderful vacation. Rome did not disappoint, and neither did baby Suri, whom I had the pleasure of dining with at the wedding of Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes. While there, I met with some Scientology representatives to discuss the establishment of a Pug Life Scientology center. It seems to hold some profit potential, but nothing has been worked out. I remain leery of the religion after seeing what it did to Eddie from "Frasier." He was just never the same after he started his auditing sessions.

I found Rome to be a delightful city. Its rich history is on display at every turn, which prompted me to take several hundred photos. I will try to post a few on my travel blog when I get a chance.

My good friend Pope Pius Pug was a gracious tour host, shuttling me to several sites in the popemobile. Some of my favorite places were the Pantheon; the ruins of the Forum, the Palatine Hill, Ostia Antica and the Colosseum; St. Peter's Basilica; and the Sistine Chapel. And, of course, there was the previously mentioned Santa Maria della Concezione, where I witnessed the mouth-watering sight of thousands of human bones turned into decorative objects. In an apparent (and successful) bid to sell postcards, the church was adamantly opposed to anyone taking photos inside its crypt. But I did find some photos online to share with you. Truly, I believe it is the oddest place I have ever been.

The pope and I also discussed some major plans for Pug Life Ministries and the Dogloo compound, some of which I will share with you in the coming days. I am grateful to Pope Pius Pug for taking time out of his busy schedule to show me around and ensure that I was well fed with pizza, pasta and gelato. I know that his schedule was also occupied with investigating a possible miracle involving the image of Jesus and the hindquarters of a terrier mix, so his hospitality was much appreciated.

When in Rome ...

I am typing this as I wait for the maids to finish cleaning my hotel room. I pray that the rawhide residue will not prove too difficult to remove from the sheets. I have seen all kinds of wondrous sights in Rome, so many that I am contemplating moving the ministry. Is it possible to get by in Rome when all you know how to say is "gratzie"? It appears so.

I visited a church that uses the bones of more than 4,000 Capuchin monks for decorations. Pieces of bone cover the walls and ceilings in ornate patterns. Even the chandeliers are made of bones. I briefly contemplated incorporating something similar into the Dogloo Cathedral, but the pope made a good argument to the contrary: The parishioners might chew up all of our decorations.

Those germ-riddled humans

At last, I am back at my blogging station. My father has been sick for the last week, so I have been occupied with nursing him back to health, showing him how to get the most out of 18 hours a day in bed. I have elevated such rest-taking to an art form. A couple of days ago, my father managed to pass his germs along to my mother, so I then began to show her the ways of healing rest. It reminded me of a question I was once asked at the mosque. "Mugsy," a young follower barked to me, "why is it that the humans pass germs to each other, but we pugs never succumb to their illnesses. Is this because we are created in God's image, a more highly evolved species?" In a word, yes. But I believe there is more to it than this. For years, I have encouraged my parents to eat a nutrient-rich diet like mine. I have repeatedly offered to share my rawhide with them, even pushing it toward their unwilling mouths. Yet they always decline. Rawhide is nature's great protector, and I urge all humans to try it. It has worked for Dr. Phil, peace be upon him.

But though my parents do not partake in that most heavenly of treats, they are now on the mend. A combination of antibiotics and my healing saliva -- which I have liberally applied to their toes -- has them regaining some energy. And it is just in time, for we are to leave for Rome on Saturday. As I told my parents yesterday: Shape up, or I will ship out without you.

Trendsetter

Once again, celebrities have taken a cue from yours truly. As you can see in this photo, Kate Hudson appears to be conducting research on feral children.

My favorite holiday

Our long drive finally over, I bounded out of the car. We had arrived at the social event of the year: Pug-O-Ween. I quickly donned my Pugly Duckling costume in the parking lot, and we made our way into the Elzie Odom Recreation Center. Inside, I was greeted by a glorious sight, a veritable feast for my oversized eyes. For the first time since my last Hajj trip to Mecca, I felt as if I was home. I barked a silent prayer of thanks to Allah.

I was accompanied by my parents and a pair of relatives from out of town. My grandmother and great-grandmother made the trip to take in this spectacle, as much an auditory experience as a visual one. A symphony of snorting and grunting filled the gymnasium, which must have held at least 200 costumed pugs. I quickly went to work, sniffing out prospective congregants and donors for the ministry. Pug-O-Ween is the only place in Dallas-Fort Worth -- at least until the Dogloo compound is completed -- where one can find such a grand concentration of pugs.

The costumes this year were outstanding. My personal favorite was the Bride of Puggenstein, but the Herbie the Love Pug and I Dream of Jeannie costumes were excellent as well. (All three are pictured above.) The doggle-wearing bodybuilder was also most impressive. And for the second year in a row, I was smitten with a hula dancer. There is just something about those grass skirts. I chose not to enter any of the costume contests this year, to give my pug brothers and sisters a chance. I am nothing if not benevolent.


PUG LIFER SIGHTING

Among the scores of attendees at this worthy fundraiser was Eagle, Pug Lifer and blogger extraordinaire. We chatted briefly.

"Mugsy," he said, "I have heard that rawhide is the opiate of the masses. Is this true?"

"Yes," I replied. "Let us go find some."

Gone in a flash

I am worried about Gordon, the gecko friend I met early this month. For a while, he was a regular at the ayatollah compound -- either on the garage wall or on the outside of the garage door. I got to know Gordon, becoming his spiritual adviser. He was an eager student, and I bought him a tiny Quran to aid his studies. He began to talk about running away to Yemen to enroll in a madrassa, as I had done years earlier. "But Gordon," I said, "it is very hot there. Even hotter than Texas. I do not know if the Yemeni climate is suited to a Mediterranean gecko such as yourself." That was two weeks ago, and I have not seen him since. If anyone has any information on Gordon's whereabouts, please let me know. I pray for his safety.

Mega-dittos (whatever that means)

A recent story caught my eye. A broadcaster, who over the last two decades has built a media empire that nearly rivals my own, said something that was hard to believe. He criticized a man with Parkinson's disease for shaking. And not just any man; this was Michael J. Fox. The lovable Alex P. Keaton, Marty McFly. This statement was so outlandish -- and the ensuing "apology" so insincere -- that I had to investigate. The Armed Revolutionary Forces' intelligence wing pored over reams of data, analyzing facial movements, voice inflections, radio hiss. The ARF operatives then gave me a thorough presentation of their findings. And now, I am ready to release the results of this analysis.

No man -- regardless of how many illegal pain pills he was high on -- could be doltish enough to call Michael J. Fox "shameless" for displaying the symptoms of a disease he was diagnosed with 15 years ago. Rush Limbaugh must have been faking.

Wild child

I have been watching a fascinating documentary about feral children that I recorded from the Discovery Channel. It details the stories of several children who were raised by animals. I think I find this so interesting because I am a pug who has been raised by humans. In a sense, it is almost the same thing. So I have been doing some research to try to find an instance of a child being raised by pugs. I suspect that such a child would be, in many ways, more advanced than a typical human child. But so far, I have not found any such cases. I have been perusing this database, however, so I may yet stumble upon an instance of pug-raised children.

In the meantime, this documentary has set my normally subdued imagination into overdrive. I have many experiments that I wish to conduct on the feral-child phenomenon. Perhaps, God willing, I will try some of them out at the next meeting of the Ayatollah Mugsy Scouts.

Monumental find

EULESS, Texas (AP) -- Pilgrims from around the world descended upon a Texas park Monday to see what they believe is a sacred object -- a potato chip bearing the likeness of a canine religious leader.

Debbie Wilson, who discovered the chip, says it features an unmistakable image of Ayatollah Mugsy, her spiritual leader and the head of Pug Life Ministries.

"I was having a picnic Saturday," Wilson said, "and a chip fell out of my bag and onto my blanket. I looked down, and a ray of sunshine was illuminating that perfect image. It is so clearly the ayatollah. This is a sign from God; I just know it is."

Reluctant to move the chip, Wilson hired a security firm to watch it 24 hours a day.

Word spread quickly via Internet message boards, and by Sunday afternoon, the park was crowded with people and their pets clamoring to view the potato chip.

Euless police have been working overtime to manage the crowds and ensure the safety of the chip, whose brand name has not been revealed.

"This is a priceless item," said Euless Police Chief George Croft. "Imagine how they must have felt when they found the Dead Sea scrolls, or the Shroud of Turin. Then multiply that by a billion. I won't let any harm come to this chip. It will sit in that park until the ayatollah tells me to move it."

Ayatollah Mugsy declined to comment for this story, but a spokesman said the ministry was preparing to take control of the chip.

"This is an important artifact that seems to possess a message from Allah," said the spokesman, who asked to remain anonymous. "Mugsy wants it preserved for future generations to see, so I expect that it will be housed in a wing of the planned Dogloo Mosque -- unless GoldenPalace.com makes a suitable offer."

What bubble?

I apologize for the recent dearth of posts, my anxious flock. I have been working a lot of overtime at the mosque lately. This is good for the puggy bank, but not so good for the blog. You see, I am trying to save enough money to do some real estate investing.

Something fishy

At last the sun had gone down, bringing an end to the day's long, torturous fast. My mother and I went to a local Italian restaurant to celebrate. We go there occasionally, in spite of the fact that the big sign outside misspells "pizzeria." Once inside, we took our seats by the window and ordered a large pizza and some soft drinks. When my drink arrived, I noticed something unusual poking above the rim of the glass. Something that did not belong. I carefully fished out this piece of plastic, about an inch across. It was half black, half dirty-transparent. Thus began an inner dialogue in my well-wrinkled head.

"It is probably just a piece from an ice bag," one voice said. "It touches the ice anyway."

"Silence, fool!" my other voice boomed. "Only the inside of the bag would normally touch the ice. The outside is rolling around in the back of filthy trucks, being crawled upon by ungodly vermin and cockroaches. It is handled by countless grubby human hands before the ice reaches its destination. And now, that disgusting piece of plastic has contaminated your drink. Typhoid is probably just around the corner."

My other voice did not have a rebuttal. Just then, the waiter brought a fresh drink for my mother, who unlike me had been sipping her soda. I glanced down to see that the piece of plastic was no longer where I had left it on the corner of the table.

"What happened to that plastic?" I barked to my mother.

"Oh, I moved it," she said.

"Where did you put it?"

"I ... I don't know," she said nervously.

I gave her a long look. "You ate it, didn't you?" I queried. This she denied. "All right," I barked. "Where did you put it?"

She made a show of briefly fumbling through her pockets. "Oh, I don't know what I did with it," she said dismissively.

"I was thinking of asking the waiter for another drink," I said. "But you have apparently eaten the evidence."

"I did not," she said, averting her eyes.

The moral of the story is this, my flock: If you ever dine with my mother, watch her like a hawk.

Who can resist?

As a public service -- and to help perpetuate the canine race -- the ministry brings you this flier, originally posted at a California dog park. Click here for further details.

I humbly accept

I am honored to announce that The Ayatollah's Teachings has been named "Cool Dog Site of the Day" by Dogmark.net. I am very grateful for this honor, which is made all the more impressive by the fact that this is not a leap year. Yes, only 365 of the world's billions upon billions of Web sites will earn this distinction for 2006. I am humbled, even more so than usual.

This honor means we are eligible for the "Cool Dog Site of the Month" award as well, but voting for the October winner will not begin until next month. Don't worry; I will remind you to vote early and often. In the meantime, I endorse ARF Supreme Commander Brody the Bulldog as a worthy September champion.

Click here to visit Dogmark's "Cool Dog Site of the Day" page, where you can also see a list of previous winners and vote for monthly winners.

Thank you, Dogmark officials. May Allah ensure that your bellies are well-rubbed today, and may the sweet taste of rawhide never leave your mouths.

Put the pug down, and back away ...

Some of you may have already seen these disturbing photos. Fear not, my concerned flock. A rescue mission is in the works.

Pug-O-Ween approaches

Over the weekend, my thoughts turned to the leading social event of the year: Pug-O-Ween. Pug meetups and dog-park outings are wonderful, but Pug-O-Ween, well, that is on a whole other plane. Hundreds of brilliantly festooned pugs, all snorting as one in an Arlington gymnasium. The sound of labored breathing hangs heavy in the air, a never-ending symphony of short-snouted soulfulness. It is enough to bring a tear of joy to this ayatollah's eye.

So I put my team of tailors and artisans to work. Their task: Turn an outfit from the toddler aisle into a Pug-O-Ween costume befitting the world's foremost canine religious scholar. It is still a work-in-progress, with further cutting and sewing required. I pray that my garb will be ready in time.

A second open letter to Mark Foley

Mr. Foley,

No, I am not just "playing hard-to-get."

Sincerely,
Mugsy
Supreme Ayatollah
Pug Life Ministries

First the Longhorns, and now this ...

It seems that my travel plans have hit a snag. I have learned that the U.S. State Department has placed my name on the terrierist watch list. This is clearly in retaliation for Pug Life's ongoing rawhide enrichment program. As I type this, my attorney is working to clear my name. But what I really want to know is: When did it become a crime to be an advocate for the disenfranchised Jack Russells and Yorkies of the world?

An open letter to Mark Foley

Mr. Foley,

Please stop e-mailing me. I am not that kind of pug.

Sincerely,
Mugsy
Supreme Ayatollah
Pug Life Ministries

Wee wall-crawler

Look at this interesting little fellow I found crawling up my garage wall today. For the second time in this blog's history, we have an opportunity to play "Name That Dinosaur." Do any of the herpetologists of the congregation know what it is? It was about two and a half inches long. I think it may be a gecko, but it did not offer me a better rate on car insurance, so I cannot be certain.

I found my reaction to spotting this creature to be a bit strange. Had I spied a spider or a snake within the confines of the ayatollah compound, I would have immediately summoned my father. He would have then shrieked and called my mother in to kill the intruder. But what did I do when I saw this lizard? I fetched my camera. For some reason, I don't mind sharing my abode with this little creature. Perhaps I can get to know this lizard and minister to its spiritual needs.

A force to be reckoned with

A Pug Lifer in Fort Worth e-mailed me this review from Sunday's paper:

TEAM PUGFORCE WOWS AT BASS HALL

By HUGH PUGH
Star-Telegram Arts Critic

In an encore performance Saturday night, Team Pugforce lifted spirits as well as heavy weights at Bass Hall.

The group, which combines feats of strength with a dogged determination to spread the message of Pug Life Ministries, performed its second straight sold-out show before an adoring Fort Worth audience. The extra show was added after thousands of fans were turned away from Friday night's show.

Those lucky enough to gain admission Saturday witnessed an unparalleled display of physical strength. One member of Team Pugforce ripped a pair of phonebooks in half in one motion. Another lifted a Volkswagen Beetle over his head. Iron pipes were bent and cinderblocks were shattered as the touring sensations performed one stunt after another.

Although the human performers provided the muscle, the ministry's canines were clearly in command. Interspersed throughout the performance were testimonials from dogs who said the ministry had greatly improved -- and in some cases saved -- their lives. And about midway through the show, Pug Life's alpha dog took the stage to deafening applause.

Ayatollah Mugsy, the ministry's charismatic founder, called on all the faithful in attendance to live according to the tenets of canine Islam. He also made repeated references to his travel fund.

Throughout the evening, turbans criss-crossed the audience, passed by a troop of young Ayatollah Mugsy Scouts. As the turbans filled with money, the girls replaced them with fresh turbans and ran the offerings onstage to be poured into a massive puggybank. Atop the puggybank was a large yellow lightbulb, set to light up once the bank had been completely filled.

"Nobody is leaving this auditorium," Mugsy barked imperiously, "until that lightbulb is illuminated."

The ayatollah's words whipped the crowd into a frenzy of religious fervor, with many in attendance -- including this reviewer -- converting to canine Islam.

Great pugs in history

I was doing some reading in preparation for my upcoming trip, learning about the storied past of Rome, when I came across a startling historical tidbit. Did you know that Romulus and Remus, the twins thought to have founded the city some 2,700 years ago, were suckled by a she-pug?

Romeward bound

My tail is wagging with great vigor, my generous flock. I recently booked a trip to Rome. I will depart in about six weeks to see the Colosseum, the Pantheon, the Trevi Fountain, the relics of the Roman Forum and many other exciting sights. And, of course, I will visit my good friend Pope Pius Pug at the Vatican. There, we will finalize plans for the Dogloo compound, which will someday be mentioned alongside the previously mentioned architectural wonders. I am also considering taking some day trips to visit some other interesting places -- possibly Venice and/or Florence. Do any of the world travelers or Italians in the congregation have any advice on what to see and do in Italy?

As you may know, trans-Atlantic flights do not come cheap. Now, more than ever, the ministry needs your financial help. So I am officially launching the Send a Pug to Italy Telethon. Team Pugforce will perform at Bass Hall in Fort Worth tonight to kick off the festivities. I have also moved the Italy-centric PayPal icon from my little-visited (and little-updated) travel blog to this page. A full 100 percent of donations will go toward Mugsy's Travel Fund, a worthy cause if ever there was one. That is right -- no wasteful administrative expenses like the Red Cross.

Donations are probably not tax-deductible, but it is worth a shot. The odds of an audit are actually quite low.

Shades of Schwarzkopf

Because of overwhelming media demand, Supreme Commander Brody has agreed to hold a news conference. Among other topics, he will discuss the tactics employed to allow a four-dog team of commandos to defeat a cadre of more than 100 power-mad, visually impaired referees at the Doggonamo Bay detention facility. For details on Brody's ingenious "Mock and Paw" strategy, visit Bull by the Horns.

Mission accomplished

I have wonderful news to report, my friends. We have freed the hostages -- every last one of them. An elite four-dog ARF commando unit infiltrated the Eugene Animal Shelter before dawn today. The squad was led by Brody the Bulldog, supreme commander of the Armed Revolutionary Forces. Given his lofty title, Brody could have directed the operation from his airborne mobile command center. But because of the gravity of this situation and the deplorable conditions in which the detainees were being held, he opted to take a more paws-on approach. You have already seen some of the humiliating treatment to which the hostages were subjected, but we also had received reports of the use of a modified Kong from which no biscuit particles could be obtained. Because of this torture at the hands of the infidels, I decided that we would deal with the diplomatic ramifications later. These poor canines had to be rescued as soon as possible.

The ARF squad inserted into the theater of operations via the Willamette River, first using an inflatable raft and then dog-paddling the final 800 meters. Once ashore, the commandos stealthily made their way to the pound at the Doggonamo Bay facility. After burrowing under the razor-wire fence, this fearsome foursome slipped into the detention center unnoticed by the shadowy consortium of crooked Pac-10 referees and University of Oregon boosters who were holding our canine brothers captive. What happened inside the pound is classified information, but suffice it to say that the hostages are all now at home with their families. All are reported to be healthy and in good spirits. Before leaving, the commandos made sure to mark the territory for the canine nation. Never again will it be used for such evil purposes. Allahu akbar!

THE STRIKEFORCE

1. BRODY
Code name: Bro
Hometown: Los Angeles
Breed: Bulldog
Education: West Point
Specialties: Barking orders, biological weapons, blob-wrestling

2. WINSTON
Code name: Disco
Hometown: Austin
Breed: Pug
Education: U.S. Naval Academy
Specialties: Naval ops, disorienting foes with circular sprinting, medic

3. CLEVELAND
Code name: C Dizzle
Hometown: San Diego
Breed: Bulldog
Education: Harvard
Specialties: Covert ops, military policing, charm offensives

4. BRAXTON
Code name: Killer
Hometown: Los Angeles
Breed: Maltese
Education: Ayatollah Mugsy's Youth Indoctrination Camp
Specialties: Demolitions, paw-to-paw combat, heavy machine-gunner

They have gone too far

I have just received some photos that are startling to say the least. Look what those infidels have done to this member of the Portland Pug Jihad. For God's sakes, it is not even Pug-O-Ween. So help me, Allah, I will not stand for this. This blatant disregard for international law and canines' rights really gets my hackles up. These pugs will be returned to their families at once -- or else.

Mugsy addresses U.N.

UNITED NATIONS (The New York Times) -- In a move that sent shockwaves through the diplomatic community, civil rights activist Ayatollah Mugsy addressed the U.N. General Assembly on Thursday to call for the release of the so-called Oregon Five.

Barking via videophone, the leader of Pug Life Ministries struck a defiant tone in demanding the release of the five prisoners accused of being members of his Armed Revolutionary Forces (ARF).

"These canines are not members of the ARF. I demand that they be released at once," the cleric said to the assembled delegates. "One way or another, they will be freed. Either you are with us or against us."

He described their detention at a Eugene, Ore., dog pound as a blatant violation of the Geneva Convention. Officials in Oregon contend they have broken up a coup plot and call the Oregon Five a danger to the community.

The General Assembly chamber was abuzz over the pug ayatollah's address. He first made news at the United Nations in April with his infamous shoe incident.

In his closing remarks, Ayatollah Mugsy told the Oregon officials to free the Oregon Five and let him take their place behind bars.

"I am the one you really want," he said.

Detainee crisis

After my briefing on this unfolding crisis, I settled down for a nine-hour nap. But I assure you that I am on top of the situation. Here is what we know so far: Five canines have been detained in Eugene, Ore., on charges of espionage, conspiracy and attempted kidnapping. Authorities have accused these dogs of being members of the Armed Revolutionary Forces (ARF). I can say with certainty that this is not true. All ARF members are present and accounted for. Instead, we believe these canines are members of Portland Pug Jihad, a militant group known to follow my teachings. It appears that these canines were attempting to abduct the officiating crew from Saturday's Oklahoma-Oregon debacle in accordance with my latest fatwa. I have been in contact with Eugene Animal Control Services trying to negotiate the release of these canines. I will not rest -- with the exception of nap time, of course -- until these political prisoners have been freed.

Oregon authorities have ordered a crackdown on canine nationalism, so it is vitally important that we remain vigilant and take the necessary precautions. Keep an eye out for this man -- he is bad news. God willing, we will resolve this crisis through diplomatic means.

Breaking news

I have just received word of a possible canine hostage drama unfolding. I am on my way to a briefing with the Armed Revolutionary Forces (ARF) to learn more. In the meantime, I am raising our alert level to chartreuse. Please make sure you have sufficient duct tape and rawhide to get you through the day. Further details to come ...

This changes everything

Greetings, my faithful flock. I come before you today with startling news. I recently received an e-mail from my online friend Kevin, who in addition to being a master propagandist is also an amateur naturalist and evolutionary biologist. While sifting through some of Charles Darwin's archives, he made an earth-shattering discovery. But more on that in a moment.

Here at Pug Life Ministries, we have long rejected Darwin's theory of evolution and natural selection. Instead, we have promoted the well-researched, widely accepted Intelligent Design theory. Intelligent Design holds that life is too complex to fathom and thus must be the product of an intelligent creator. But in contrast to creationism, Intelligent Design does not risk violating the constitutional separation of church and state. We can teach children in public schools about Intelligent Design because we leave up in the air just who that designer might be. It could be aliens, or a Frankenstein-esque scientist, or the Easter Bunny. I suppose it could even be Allah (wink, wink). For these reasons, Intelligent Design has been an ideal theory for the ministry to support. And the fact that we have the phrase copyrighted and receive 50 cents every time it appears in a textbook, well, that is just gravy on the Milkbone.

But despite my longtime adherence to Intelligent Design, I have to admit that Kevin's find has me reconsidering everything. I must warn you: What I am about to show you could shake your belief system to its very core. I debated whether to expose you to this most jarring information, but I finally decided that it would be wrong to deprive the world of knowledge of this incredible discovery. Has Kevin uncovered the missing link in this lost page from Darwin's notebook? You decide.

Mugsy issues fatwa

Today, we have witnessed a travesty of justice. Victory was plucked from the Sooners' hands by an officiating crew that is either incompetent or corrupt -- or both. To make a bad call on the field during a fast-paced play is understandable. The referees are only human, after all. To spend over five minutes reviewing the horrendous call with instant-replay and then say the call stands is inexcusable.

I hereby issue a fatwa calling for the capture of all members of Saturday's officiating crew. They are to be brought to me and tried before an Armed Revolutionary Forces (ARF) military tribunal. And given the conclusive evidence on my DVR, I suspect it will be a short trial.

What I did tonight

Game day

I'm Sooner born,

and Sooner bred,

and when I die,

I'll be Sooner dead.

Those are lyrics from the University of Oklahoma's "Boomer Sooner" fight song, which contrary to popular perception has more than two words. And although my AKC papers say that I am a pure-breed pug, I am, in fact, Sooner bred as well. So I ventured to Norman, Okla., over the weekend to watch my beloved team vanquish the Washington Huskies. Allah blessed us with wonderful football weather. It was sunny and breezy, not too hot. The electric game-day atmosphere can be appreciated even by those who aren't big sports fans. The band plays. The crowd chants. The cheerleaders defy gravity. The Sooner Schooner (which my mother once hitched a ride on) races around the field after Sooner scores. And best of all on this day, the Sooners pulled away in the second half for a decisive 37-20 victory.

My parents raised me to be a Sooner pug, giving me my first OU collar when I was a young pup. Had I opted for a secular education -- rather than studying at madrassas in Pakistan and Yemen -- I would have probably attended OU. An English major, perhaps. So it was great fun to sniff around the South Oval and walk through Campus Corner. Perhaps, God willing, I will go back for another game before this season is over.

On Monday, after a weekend of celebrating the Sooner victory with Norman's own Rabbi Jake, I had a very important meeting -- one that could forever alter the course of Pug Life Ministries. Although it is not in my nature to be mysterious, that is all I can tell you at this time. Stay tuned ...

Your life is now complete

See? I told you what a vision of wonderment little Suri Cruise is. I did, however, neglect to mention her baby toupee.

Mugsy issues fatwa

I come before you today to address a most grievous problem. I can no longer stand by while our society crumbles around us. I can no longer tolerate this most vile, mildy insulting behavior. The restaurant hosts and hostesses of the world have left me no choice but to issue a fatwa! More and more I have noticed a common greeting whenever I go out to eat. And every time I hear this ubiquitous greeting, I bite my tongue. But no more! I understand that the hostess must choose a suitable table or booth. But it is altogether unnecessary to use the following phrase: "Just two?" Excuse me; just two? When I am going out with one of my ladyfriends, two is plenty. Exactly how big of an entourage must I bring to the restaurant before you will be satisfied? Yesterday, after my date and I were seated and ready to order our food, our waiter's first words were "just two?" Yes, Sherlock, way to go. You didn't even have to use your other eight fingers. Now stop passing judgment upon me for not dining with a massive dinner party. What happened to the days when a host would simply say, "Two?" This is nonjudgmental, non-insulting. It does not imply that I am somehow less of a pug for dining only with one date.

This "just" greeting is not limited to pairs. During a recent trip to dine with a couple of relatives, the hostess gathered a handful of menus and said, "Just three?" Are these people never satisfied? What, pray tell, is wrong with joining one or two friends for a meal?

Henceforth, it is forbidden for restaurant employees to use such belittling language. Those who defy this binding religious decree will face consequences most severe. Just say "no" to insulting your customers.

Mugsy declared fit for command

DALLAS (AP) -- Ayatollah Mugsy -- the cleric behind the world's largest interfaith, interspecies ministry -- was pronounced fit for command by his veterinarian after his annual physical exam on Saturday.

The ayatollah had his checkup at Dallas' world-renowned Pepper Square Pet Clinic. His veterinarian, who asked to be referred to as "Dr. P" for security reasons, said Mugsy appeared to be in excellent health.

She said his teeth were in fine condition, and the pigment in his eyes was unchanged from a year ago.

The mullah's weight was up slightly from a year ago, to 28 pounds. Dr. P said she was not concerned, and she attributed the increase to "one pound of rock-solid muscle."

Ayatollah Mugsy declined to comment, but an aide said the results of the checkup were great news for the faithful.

"The doctors once again have found the ayatollah fit for duty and have every reason to expect that he will remain so for the foreseeable future," said Ari Fleischer, Mugsy's press secretary.

Fleischer said the ayatollah was celebrating the good news by chewing on a large rawhide bone.

Beth Adams, a veterinary assistant at the clinic, said she was honored to be able to take part in the exam.

"Just being in his presence was a wonderful thing," she said. "I feel so much better about the future of planet Earth, knowing that His Holiness is healthy and able to lead us onward."

Visibly swooning, Adams also referred to the ayatollah as "a paragon of virility," despite his 2001 neutering.

Mugsy is the supreme ayatollah of Pug Life Ministries, a shadowy group that claims millions of dogs and humans as members, as well as several cats, a turtle, a donkey, a sock monkey and a rocking horse. The group lists among its goals the establishment of an autonomous pug homeland in the American Southwest. Some critics have called the ministry a cult and a for-profit enterprise, but they have seldom been seen or heard from again.

Mmmmmm ...

I sampled my first Swedish meatball from IKEA today. Who knew that food from a furniture store could be so tasty?

Driving Miss Doofus

As you know, I am an ardent proponent of expanded rights for canines. But that does not mean I would suggest letting the family dog drive the car.

The Exorcism of Bella Rose: Part II

The first part of this true story is in the post directly below this one.

After her violent outburst, Bella collapsed on the bed. It seemed the demon had granted her a momentary reprieve. I put my ear on Pope Pius Pug's chest to check for vital signs, but I heard no pulse. The leader of the world's 1 billion Catholic canines was teetering on the brink -- or perhaps he had already passed the point of no return. "Noooooooo!" I cried. The pontiff was too beloved, too brilliant, too incredibly good-looking to pass away now. I knew that there was only one hope to bring him back. Though I had never performed the laying on of tongues ritual on a dog, it was the pope's only chance for survival.

I pulled up his papal garb and began to vigorously lick his belly button, forever putting to rest the myth that canines have no navel. I paused to check for signs of life, but his tail remained eerily uncurled. "Come on, pope," I exclaimed. "Fight!" I went back to licking, while at the same time praying for the pontiff's recovery. Just then, a glass mosaic went whizzing by my head and crashed into the dresser, exploding in a cloud of tiny shards. I glanced up to see Bella standing on two legs atop the bed's headboard. The lights began to flicker as Bella seemingly gave off some sort of electromagnetic field. She grabbed another mosaic and flung it at me. I twirled around the pope's motionless body, my tongue never breaking stride. This dangerous dance continued for what seemed like an eternity. I channeled my healing power toward the pope while dodging Bella's barrage of lamps, mosaics and other knick-knacks. In one instant, I had to pull the pope aside to keep one of Bella's glassy projectiles from striking him. As I shoved the pope under the bed for safety, I took a deep breath and delivered one giant lick. I felt a shudder, then a heave. The pope began to wheeze. I pressed on, narrowly dodging a picture frame that ricocheted off the wall. The pope began to snort with renewed strength. "Mugsy ....," he said. I put my paw over his mouth. "Save your energy, my friend," I barked, motioning for the humans to take the pope out of the danger zone. "Get this pug a biscuit, stat!" I commanded. "He needs his strength." As the door closed, I knew that the final showdown was at hand.

I leaped onto the bed and caught Bella by surprise, knocking her down. She turned, putting her rear in my face in the famed Chihuahua fighting technique before wheeling and snapping at me with her razor-sharp fangs. I bobbed and weaved like a boxer, the pugilistic skills honed in my puppyhood taking over. As she spun and lashed out at me again, I saw an opening. My paws came crashing down on Bella's back, pinning her to the bed. I held her down with one paw while holding up my sacred bone-shaped amulet with the other. I began to recite a prayer, causing Bella to squeal in agony. Though it pained me to see a canine suffer so, I did not let up. For hour upon hour, I barked the word of Allah. At times she would slip free from my grasp, but never for long. I grabbed her by the tail and flung her back to the center of the bed, where I continued the ancient exorcism ritual. Finally, her mouth opened wide. And what I saw next would forever be etched upon my mind.

It began as a lump in her throat, as if her Adam's apple had become an Adam's melon. With tremendous force, the demon erupted from her mouth. This agent of the devil was a luminescent green, with wide eyes and an incessant, taunting squeak. It lunged at me, and I batted it out of the sky and onto the floor. With reckless abandon, I sent my body hurtling after the demon. I rolled it toward the corner with my spare snout, trapping the demon against the wall. Then my teeth clamped down, puncturing the demon's squeaker in one mighty blow. With a hiss of rushing air, the demon cried out in pain and went hurtling from my mouth. It hovered for a split-second before rocketing through the ceiling, leaving a small hole in the sheetrock. A hint of daylight poured in and illuminated Bella's sleeping body. The poor dog was exhausted. I put my paw on her forehead. "At last, Bella, you have found peace," I barked. And I curled up by her side for a much-needed nap.

The exorcism of Bella Rose was not an easy thing. It was neither quick nor pleasant. What I have witnessed over the last 104 hours will no doubt be etched into my memory for the rest of my days. But as I have explained before, it had to be done. This is the story of the fight for Bella's soul.

All else had failed: The jail time. The counseling sessions. The puppy classes at PetSmart. It became apparent to me that this Chihuahua's actions were not her own. They were, instead, the work of a powerful demon that had burrowed its way into her soul. This former nun -- once known for her piety -- had become evil incarnate. I began to study the Quran and the ancient Hadiths, seeking guidance. Exorcisms, though rare, have long been a part of the Islamic faith. But I would not go it alone. As I alluded to in an earlier post, my good friend Pope Pius Pug left his gold-encrusted Dogloo at the Vatican and jetted to Dallas to lead this most important ritual. Upon his arrival, we locked ourselves in my study to prepare. We melded the best Muslim and Catholic demon-fighting techniques. We discussed strategy. We prayed for hours upon end. And, given the inherent danger of our mission, we made out our wills.

Finally, the day of the exorcism had arrived. We sat in silence during our long trip up Interstate 35, not even barking at passing motorcyclists. We arrived at Bella's holding cell in the dead of night and went immediately to work. I instructed the humans to take 10 bowls of holy water into her bedroom. The pope and I entered and locked the door. There was no turning back.

"Well, well," she barked, her head rotating slowly. "Look who's here."

Bella then let loose a string of vile expletives unfit for publication in a family blog such as this. Even worse, she unleashed her ear-shatteringly high-pitched bark. I was able to overcome the initial shock of this aural assault, and I ordered the humans to pin Bella to the bed. Though sliced by her razor-sharp claws, they complied. The pope then took his position at the foot of the bed and began to recite an incantation. I splashed holy water from my drinking bowl onto Bella's flesh, which sizzled upon contact. The stench was overwhelming. Then, without warning, she threw off her human handlers and lunged at the pope. Her venomous teeth flashed as she growled in an ancient, long-dead tongue. The pope bore the full brunt of her savage attack and stumbled backward. He slumped to the floor, his tail coming completely uncurled.

I shoved Bella back toward the bed and rushed to the pontiff's side. Pope Pius Pug was no longer breathing.

To be continued

Pug in a rug

Some senior citizens let dementia get them down. But not this woman. She's spending her golden years outfitting dogs in hairpieces. Ruth Regina is out to start a new fashion trend while simultaneously improving the self-confidence of canines everywhere. As she says, "Dogs are just little people in fur coats." Click here to read her story (and to see a bulldog blond bombshell).

Tag -- I'm it

My faithful congregation, I have been tagged. Tara Roswitha, Pippin, Bam-Bam and Thomas Peterson have all bestowed upon me the tag of duty. And I will honor this duty to share five "weird" things about myself. But let us instead call them "quirky," for there is nothing weird about a pug ayatollah.

1. Whenever I spot an exposed belly button, I lick it. Vigorously. For hours, if the humans would let me. My parents have even used this trait against me. When I mischievously run outside and refuse to come back in, my mother has been known to drop to the floor and expose her bare midriff to lure me back to the house. I cannot resist. Why do I do this? Because it is the best way to impart my mystical healing powers upon the humans.

2. I am a reformed ex-convict. I was incarcerated for my role in The Great Panty Raid, and it was in the pound that I found Allah. For further details, please see my biography in the right-hand rail.

3. I do not like to ride roller coasters. This is OK, however, because I am not tall enough to ride.

4. I have my own online store, where I attempt to sell Ayatollah Mugsy and Got Rawhide? products, among others. I pray that I will sell enough to cover my $5-a-month investment.

5. I introduced my parents to the majestic breed known as the pug. Before they adopted me, they did thorough research to try to find the right kind of dog to keep in the cramped apartment they shared at the time. When they saw an ad in the classifieds, they decided they would go take a look at this funny-looking breed of dog in Wylie, Texas. They had no intention of taking a puppy home that day. But that was before they met me, a tiny bundle of snorts and nonstop licking. Guess who called shotgun on the ride home.

Now, it is time for me to dole out tags. In no particular order, I choose:

Tyler
Anonymous Midwest Girl and her puppy
JMG and her furry children
Francois Fertig
Eagle

Security gone wild

I have just received a call from a fuming Pope Pius Pug. It seems that the security screeners at Fiumicino Airport in Rome won't let my good friend board with his Hartz Groomer's Plus Puppy Shampoo. What a pity. The Catholic masses deserve to see their leader with his coat at its shiniest.

Pint-sized powder keg

Some of you may have heard about a little "incident" that occurred last night. Rather than let the innuendo swirl, I would like to set the record straight. Yes, Bella the Chihuahua escaped from her holding cell briefly. And yes, there was a rather grisly attack. She savagely assaulted a neighbor, who required a medium-sized Band-aid on his ankle. Thank Allah, he is a supporter of Pug Life Ministries and agreed not to press charges.

It has become apparent that Bella cannot be rehabilitated through conventional means. But something must be done. This cannot continue. Her violent acts besmirch the reputation of all canines -- except in the instances in which she is mistaken for a rodent. In any case, I am formulating a plan. God willing, I will purge these violent tendencies from Bella -- or die trying.

My genius prevails

My mother tried to stump me tonight with a scavenger hunt. She hid dog biscuits around the living room for me to find. She thought she was being really sneaky, too. She must have been rather disappointed when I made quick work of her little mental exercise. Come on, mother. I memorized the Quran in a single sitting. I can certainly sniff out a few biscuits. But don't let that dissuade you from trying again.

Not so neighborly

I went for a walk last night, as I often do after the sun's tyranny has faded for the day. At the end of the block, I encountered a familiar bark. It was a rival cleric. And this was no friendly bark. No, this was a verbal assault. He pounded frantically on his wooden fence. "Go away!" he barked. "Go away!" I snorted back, trying to calm him down, and sniffed at the fence. Again, his vicious bark rang out. "Begone, heretic pug! You and your followers are not welcome here!" Though I am known for my easygoing ways, I do not take kindly to being called a heretic. So I quickly hatched a plan. Just then, I felt the light tug of the leash on my collar. "Wait," I implored my parents. "I have a present for this infidel." Smiling mischievously, I slowly circled and sidled right up to the fence. "This will teach him," I thought.

Unfortunately, my mother foiled my plot with her plastic grocery bag.

Activist ayatollah

To be an effective ayatollah, one must know when to take a stand. On Saturday, I protested an injustice.

Not to be left out ...

Let it be noted that I have seen Suri Cruise. She is the single most beautiful child to ever crawl this Earth. Allah must have spent weeks sculpting her stunning features and perfectly shaped head. At only 3 months old, she possesses the most enchanting, alluring eyes known to man or pug. Wherever she goes, the storm clouds part, and an aura of pure white glows above her silky hair. She needs no diaper, for she was born fully potty-trained. And she never cries; instead, she sings. Her angelic voice is like no other, and it is always accompanied by an unseen harp. Yes, friends, I have seen little Suri, with a fringe on top.