Mugsy's rules for trick-or-treaters

Hello, boys and ghouls of the congregation. Today is Halloween, and I have prepared a ridiculously large bowl of candy for the trick-or-treaters. This is important, not so much because we need ample candy for the neighborhood children, but because we want to have leftovers to enjoy ourselves. In order to promote an orderly trick-or-treating experience, I am publishing the following ground rules:

1. The typical trick-or-treater may take two pieces of candy.
2. The really cutes ones may take three or four. (Life is not fair, my flock.)
3. The trick-or-treaters with facial hair, no costumes and deeper voices than father may choose their treat from a specially prepared separate bowl filled with aging packets of Parmesan cheese and crushed red pepper from Domino's Pizza. (Refer to Section 2 of Item No. 2 above.)
4. Those who are afraid of two costumed, barking dogs may go home empty-handed. But the bone-chilling scare is on us. 

UPDATE: I have found two packets of Arby's Sauce and added them to the bowl for Category 3 above. None may question my generosity. 

The sights of Pug-O-Ween

This year's Pug-O-Ween was a feast for the eyes (and I love a feast). Nearly 500 dogs turned out, many dressed in creative and colorful costumes. The collage above features a small sampling, with such winners as the headless pug queen, the Coney Island hot dog-eating contestants and Marvin the Martian, plus a look at Wendell and me relaxing without our helmets. 


What you will NOT see in the collage or elsewhere on this blog is any reference to Wendell's entry in the event's first-ever pug races, nor any mention of the fact that he has still yet to cross the finish line. No, we shall not speak of that ...

Pug-O-Ween prize

I have returned from my nearly two-week western road trip, during which I attended a canine suffrage conference in Taos, exhibited my artwork at a show in Santa Fe and climbed the tallest sand dune in North America in southern Colorado. But my crowning achievement would come upon my arrival back in North Texas. For before I even set foot in the compound, I made a pilgrimage to Grapevine for the 14th annual Pug-O-Ween. This highest of pug holy days had been marked on my calendar since 2008, because I am just that detail-oriented. (One does not attain the lofty rank of ayatollah without careful planning. I even know what I'll be eating for breakfast three months and six days from today: Iams Weight Management Dog Food. Can you say the same about your breakfast? I didn't think so. Slacker.) 


But not only did I make an appearance at Pug-O-Ween, my flock -- I finally won the ribbon that has eluded me lo these many years. Wendell and I placed third in the grueling Ghoulish Groups category! Allahu akbar! The previous two years, we had been denied a prize, despite mother's visionary innovation of the gnome pug beard in 2008 and father's somewhat less visionary but still visually stunning innovation of the yellow highlighter-colored Viking pug beard in 2009. Both years, we thought we had a chance. But both years, we were denied by a panel of Communist bloc judges who, for whatever reason, felt that "bribery" was somehow wrong. 


Because of these past defeats, we entered 2010 with limited expectations. We knew we would sniff some friends, old and new, and spread the word of Pug Life Ministries, and this was enough for us. So the ribbon was icing on the cake, as the humans like to say. Or, as I call it, Parmesan on the kibble. We were honored to take home a prize at the biggest Pug-O-Ween ever, which attracted nearly 500 pugs (and several other breeds, including my good schnauzer friend Sarge) for the worthy cause of raising money for DFW Pug Rescue. 


"So what were the costumes?" you must be asking, about to pass out from the sheer suspense. We were warriors from ancient Rome! 

"Carpe Milkbone!"

"He who is brave is free. And hungry."

"Begone from my sidewalk, Thracian scum! 
I will see you die in the arena!"

"I have led legions of pugs and conquered the whole
of Europe. And now I demand payment -- in rawhide!"

I won't lie, my flock. The power that I feel when I don this costume is immense and, as you may have noticed from the progression of the photo captions above, intoxicating. Yesterday evening, shortly after this photo shoot, Wendell and I enslaved several of the neighbors and forced them to battle in our makeshift driveway colosseum for sport. It wasn't until the elderly Jim pulled a hamstring that I realized I might be getting a tad overzealous. Of course, that doesn't mean I'll cancel tonight's bout. But I will definitely find some younger combatants. The grade-schoolers down the street seem flexible enough. 

"Ah, the spoils of victory."

Pug-O-Ween: The Viking Invasion

We set out shortly after 8 a.m., lowering our Viking longship into the creek that runs through our neighborhood and dog-paddling away from the shore. The recent heavy rains would prove helpful, ensuring that the various tributaries criss-crossing Dallas-Fort Worth remained navigable. True, we could have reached the Pug-O-Ween venue in Arlington in less than an hour via automobile, but Wendell and I wanted to get in touch with our Norsepug forebears. We wanted this experience to be as authentic as possible. For on this, the holiest of pug holidays, we were not mere pugs in costume. We were Vikings.

Six hours later, we eased to the shore near Meadowbrook Recreation Center. We were ready to loot and pillage, to claim one of the best-costume prizes that had eluded us in years past. On this sunny Saturday afternoon, the ayatollah Viking horde would not be stopped! We ran toward the venue, frightening small children and grown-ups alike with our lightning-quick advance. Like the fearsome Scandinavian warriors from the Middle Ages, we had no interest in stealth -- which would be difficult anyway, given my heavy breathing. No, we had our eyes on the prize -- and nobody would stand in our way.

Of course, a few hours of pillaging can really wear a pug out. Such was the case with my blond-bearded brother, Ulf Wendellson, who found a comfy purse to lie down on.

He also took a nap in our longship. Fortunately, I was able to stay alert to watch out for would-be intruders. And to pose for pictures.

When it came time to go before the judges, I proudly strutted the gymnasium floor, my Viking blade shining in the afternoon sunlight. Wendell began our march in the longship, The Rawhide Raider, where he could guard our treasure chest of rawhide bones. But after mother pulled it 10 feet or so, Wendell jumped out to impress the judges with his athleticism. We made our lap around the gym to rapturous applause, pausing before the judges to let the full force of our Viking garb sink in.

Mother did most of the work on the costumes, using two fur materials, two faux-leather materials, two sets of toddlers' thermal underwear and various other odds and ends to craft our costumes. She made our horned hats, our fur cloaks with bone fasteners, our fur leg-bands, and our weapon belts. Father painted our shields and served as blacksmith for my sword. The humans considered making Wendell a battle-ax, but they ultimately felt he wasn't yet mature enough to handle such a weapon. Father also colored Wendell's beard with a Hi-Liter. Our sea-faring vessel was hand-delivered from our grandmother and grandfather from Oklahoma. They built the amphibious vehicle on a wagon chassis, along with our aunt, a skilled artisan shipbuilder who painted the vessel's intricate details.

After making our lap and giving it our all, we returned to our corner to watch the other competitors and sniff our neighbors some more. A big gray-and-black rescue pug in need of a home stood beside our longship in his enclosure, wagging his tail and luring the humans in to pet him with his jovial personality. God willing, he and the other rescue pugs at the event will make somebody who visits dfwpugs.com a great pet.

Finally, it was time for the judges to announce their decision. First the third-place finisher in our Ghoulish Groups division was announced. Then second place. Then first place. We did not win -- again, we would go home empty-pawed. Oh, well. It was still fun. And we knew that -- if we wanted to -- we could still raid the judges' neighborhoods afterward, plunder their valuables and burn their homes down to a smoldering pile of ash.

All in all, it was a great afternoon. We got to be Vikings. We picked up some free food samples. We sniffed approximately 280 fellow canines. We raised money for a great cause, DFW Pug Rescue. We saw some fun costumes. And did I mention that we got to be Vikings? Not a bad day's work.

Below is a slideshow of some more of our photos from the event. Mother and father had a bit of a bias toward Viking photography, but some of the other pugs' costumes are included as well. I don't know why Photobucket insisted on making the pictures so small, but you can enlarge any image by clicking on it. Hope you enjoy the show half as much as we enjoyed being there.

Pug-O-Ween preparations

"I hope you don't actually expect me to wear that on my head," I barked to father, as I watched his feeble attempt at fashioning a Pug-O-Ween costume. "You know, even without opposable thumbs, I could do better than that." Father lowered his head in shame, aware that his headgear was not fit for an ayatollah. Then I approached mother, to see if she was doing any better. Thankfully, she was -- I knew I could count on her! Mother's costume-making skills have never let me down before. My plan to appear as a REDACTED FOR SECURITY REASONS at Saturday's Pug-O-Ween celebration is proceeding nicely. God willing, my ceremonial holiday garb will be ready on time.

Reading dogs, sexy costumes and more!

Hey, everybody. This is Wendell, the ayatollah's little brother, bringing you an update from the Canine News Network. That's right; I'm about to drop some knowledge on ya about all things dog-related. So let's begin, shall we?

• "The Today Show" on Thursday presented Willow, a dog who can read. The folks at NBC seemed to think this was a big deal -- apparently they haven't checked out the blogosphere lately. Mugsy could read the Quran in Arabic and English before he was 2 years old! I still struggle with some of the big words, but my attention span's not so great. Anyway, where was I? ... Oh yeah, this Willow chick has a three-word vocabulary and does tricks based on the word written down on a card for her. It may not be as impressive as a pug writing a regular sermon, but it's still pretty cool. Plus, she's quite a fetching little lady, so check her out.
• Speaking of fetching, did you know that you can now buy "sexy" Halloween costumes for your dog? It's true! For example, there's the "Sexy Schoolpup" outfit to your right. And check this out: Not only can you dress like a harlot, but now your doggy can even get a matching outfit! Actually, calling some of these costumes "sexy" is a bit of a stretch -- I've seen far sexier in Mugsy's harem. But that bitch in the French maid outfit is totally smokin' ...
• Our next story comes from sunny Huntington Beach, Calif., where hundreds of humans and some gnarly dog dudes turned out for the first-ever Surf City Surf Dog competition. I tell ya, there's nothing like seeing an 80-pound bulldog "hanging twenty" on a longboard. Check out this link for more details and a video.
• In more serious news, did you know that dogs can get the flu, too? Canine influenza, or H3N8, is a highly contagious virus with symptoms that can resemble kennel cough. Symptoms include cough, fever, runny nose, loss of appetite and low energy. A new vaccine for canine influenza was released this summer, but it's not recommended for everyone. Dogs that congregate with lots of other canines in places like kennels and mosques are most vulnerable to the flu, along with elderly dogs and those with health problems. I'm sure your vet can provide more information than I can, because -- let's face it -- I'm a 2-year-old puppy with no medical training.
• And finally, "American Idol" judge Simon Cowell recently donated $30,000 to help out a dog rescue group. Kudos, sir. I mean, we'd love it if you dropped some cash like that in the ministry's offering plate, but this is mighty nice, too. Maybe Simon's not the big grump we all thought he was. But seriously, dude, button up your shirt. You're showing more chest fuzz than I am.

Election Day surprise

WASHINGTON (AP) -- There was no "October surprise" to shake up the presidential race, but a possible bombshell has landed on Election Day.

U.S. counterterrierism officials said early Tuesday that they are investigating a possible link between enigmatic canine cleric Ayatollah Mugsy and the radical Garden Gnome Liberation Front. The organization, based in France, claims members in numerous countries and advocates an end to "oppressive gardening practices." Rumors of a link between the gnome group and Ayatollah Mugsy gained momentum after the spiritual guide for Pug Life Ministries was spotted wearing a gnome costume to a Pug-O-Ween celebration in Arlington, Texas, possibly in a show of solidarity with his fellow radicals.

"This revelation could have a significant impact on the presidential race," said John Fellows, a professor of political science at Georgetown University. "But it is not clear which of the two major campaigns would be most affected. Ayatollah Mugsy was once a guest speaker at Democratic hopeful Barack Obama's church, along with pastor and amateur comedian Michael Pfleger. But Mugsy also reportedly took part in a casting-out-of-witches ceremony at [GOP vice presidential candidate] Sarah Palin's church in Wasilla, Alaska."

Fellows said that voters' decisions may come down to where they stand on the issue of gnomes' rights, always a touchy subject.

"It is really the third rail of American politics," Fellows said.

Pug-O-Ween pics

As promised, here are some pictures from this year's Pug-O-Ween extravaganza. Among the costumes were a mouse, Pugerace (Liberace pug), Morticia Addams, couch pugtatoes, Elvis Pugsley, a hot-air balloon (excellent, though I did not get any good photos of it) and a pug with a superb Mr. T starter set.

I tried to make a montage of costumes as I had in years past, but because of the infidel Bill Gates and his inferior Windows Vista, it was difficult. It is impossible to manipulate images in Photoshop with any accuracy on my current laptop, so please excuse the rough appearance. God willing, the ministry will receive sufficient donations to purchase a decent operating system.

Catching up with New Dog

I have some catching up to do, my flock. As promised, here is the tale of New Dog:

The happy ayatollah clan was returning from Pug-O-Ween when I spotted a little dog roaming the neighborhood. We didn't want him to get hit by a car, so mother got out and offered him a biscuit. The canine accepted.

Soon, he was running around the ayatollah compound as if he owned the place. He wore a collar, but there was no phone number or address for a human caretaker. With the understanding that our new brother might be with us for a while, we named him New Dog, ND for short (pronounced "Indy"). While mother made some signs and posted them around the neighborhood, Wendell and I began to acquaint ourselves with ND. We learned that he was a Lutheran, and that he had worked in Las Vegas as a lounge singer. His nickname was "Old Blue Eye," owing to his distinctive one-blue-eye-and-one-brown-eye appearance. He was also fast -- nearly as speedy as Wendell. This led to at least 30 minutes of outdoor fun for the young duo. After a couple of minutes of watching the black blur chase the white-brown blur, and vice versa, I retired to the living room.

ND later laid claim to some pre-chewed rawhide, which could have been a source of friction. But thankfully, father opened a new pack, and all was once again right with the world. ND slept in Wendell's crate that night.

The next morning, mother and father took ND to a local veterinarian's office. They found that he had a microchip beneath his skin, and it provided the information necessary to track down ND's human caretaker. Mother and father left ND with the vet, and we thought that would be the last we'd see of our new brother. But last night, as costumed children prowled the neighborhood and set my hackles on alert, I spied the unmistakable gait of ND. He was out walking with his human. As my family drove by, ND looked up, his blue eye twinkling in the moonlight. He nodded in appreciation for what Wendell and I had done for him. I nodded back. Then, rolling down the window, I barked, "You owe me a stick of rawhide, you furry mooch."

Code red! Code red!

I have detected the presence of some supernatural miscreants -- possibly witches -- in the neighborhood. Wendell and I have been holding them at bay by barking at them through the fence. I suspect that while we were outside, some of these pointy-hatted beings may have raided the ayatollah compound for treats. Gullible mother ...

I must go -- I think a princess is approaching, possibly with evil intentions.

Roaming gnomes

Happy post-Pug-O-Ween to you, my flock. I am pressed for time, thanks to an unexpected houseguest named New Dog and work commitments, so I can only post one photo from the big event for now. As you can see, Wendell and I dressed up as gnomes. It was an ideal costume choice, because it did not require me to shave my flowing beard. And because of the recent onset of puberty, Wendell now shares a similarly dashing facial mane.

I will share with you a sampling of the day's finest costumes when time allows. I will also try to explain who this New Dog is, and why he has a constant black, pug-shaped shadow.

Pug-O-Ween, here we come

I believe we have found a workable alternative to Wendell's costume, my flock. We may not be able to wear matching outfits (though we will still give it a shot at the Pug-O-Ween venue), but Wendell should still be adequately attired. Praise Allah! As I type this, mother is gathering our supplies for the big event. I must go and remind her to pack Milkbones.

Stay tuned for a plethora of costumed pug photos ...

Pug-O-Ween complications

My friends, the ministry is facing a crisis. Despite mother's best efforts, Wendell's Pug-O-Ween headwear will not stay in place. In fact, Wendell will not even stay in place. As I type this, my brother is racing in circles as mother attempts to corral him on the living-room rug, pug hat in hand. It has become apparent that Wendell may not be able to wear his full costume to tomorrow's holiday gathering -- the social event of the season for North Texas pugs. This could make it impossible for us to claim a prize in the group pug costume contest.

Pray for us, my flock. Pray that mother is able to find some means, any means, to get Wendell's costume to stay in place. Velcro, a chin strap, hot glue -- whatever it takes.

Pug-O-Ween preparations

Over the weekend, mother took out her needle and thread and began work on Pug-O-Ween costumes for Wendell and me. The big event is this Sunday. For those unfamiliar with this holiest of days, here are some links to my Pug-O-Ween posts from 2005 and 2006, when I dressed up as Batpug and the Pugly Duckling, respectively. Last year, a poorly timed vacation prevented me from attending. That will not be the case this year, as Wendell will get his first taste of this magical day. Praise Allah!

I hope to see (and sniff) my fellow Texas canines there.