Assalamu alaikum, my flock. I would like you to meet my new little brother, Wendell. Like me, he is a pug. But he is black, and I am fawn, so hopefully my parents will not get us mixed up (I think my food portions are bigger). I must admit that young Wendell came as a surprise; mother didn't even appear to be showing. In fact, I had come to suspect the worst after analyzing the clues gathered by Sherlock Bones regarding my parents' recent odd behavior. Sherlock found a series of suspicious photos on mother's camera that, combined with her unusual cellphone record and ATM withdrawals, led me to suspect her of infidelity. But just as I was about to call father and tell him that I believed mother was seeing a younger man -- a much younger man -- mother walked in the door clutching little Wendell. "Ayatollah," she said, "meet your new brother!"
I took to him immediately, my tail wagging like the windshield wipers set on high. I am looking forward to taking Wendell under my wing and teaching him the tricks of the pug trade -- notably the vaunted "pugtona," our distinctive circular sprinting technique. He must also learn to boost his snore volume and speak with a gruff, pleasing-to-the-ear bark. But there will be plenty of time for that later. The excitement at the ayatollah compound has proven exhausting, so for now, we shall nap.
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