I’m not really a dog person.
I like dogs perfectly fine, but, much like children, I don’t care to own one myself. I have a very burly housecat named The Ham™, and he’s independent enough that it’s more-or-less, just like having a roommate who will periodically wake you up with a dead rat in his mouth, which is half his size. Like whoa, okay pal, where’d you get that big fucker? Hopefully, the neighbor’s yard and not mine. Damn. But thanks for paying the rent on time.
However, I’ve recently been charged to look after a discount pug for a couple of days. Its master calls me and says, "Hey, can you look after the discount pug for a week?" You know, dog-sitting. I could do nothing but say, "Uh, yeah, sure." Then I was faced with the question of what to do with such a creature. Well, I had no idea, but I found various things to do with her. You will now be told the tale.
Firstly, to address the question: why is she a discount pug? Does she provide discounts? No, sadly. She merely came to her master at a discount because she doesn’t see very well. Does a pug, discounted or otherwise, really need keen eyesight? Are people taking pugs duck hunting? That sounds like a terrible idea.
So, before discussing what I did during "pug week," let’s go over a few facts...
So, what did I do with this discount pug?
Well, I did the usual dog stuff. Take her to the park, pick up dog shit with the little baggie, feed her pork rinds (which I bought for this purpose and called "pug rinds"), and you know, walk the dog around.
But this did not satisfy me. I had to find more interesting things to do.
So then, what else do you do when you’re in charge of a discount pug for a bit?
Follow me on a photographic journey!
At first, I decided to see if I’d get kicked out of the grocery store when bringing in the discount pug to get stuff for dinner. My dinner, that is, not the pug’s. She has kibble provided by her masters. Also, pug rinds.
I did not get kicked out. Interestingly, people seemed quite on board with pugs tooling around and acting real dumb, including security personnel. Acting real dumb is their default setting, by the way. Fortunately for me, this is not the kind of dog that shits or pisses all over stuff...rather well behaved with bowel and bladder. So, we’ll add a +1 point for the discount pug for that.
Next, we went to the craft store. Someone actually did crab at me. An older lady working at the craft store (whoa, that’s a surprise) says to me, "is that a rescue dog?!" Assuredly, she meant to ask if it was a service dog, but the letter of the law is the rule of the law. "I think so." "Oh...okay then."
Well, that wasn’t so bad. Live, laugh, love, fucker.
Yes, this discount pug is grateful, thankful, and blessed...I guess.
So now, it has become my point to buck societal norms and live that thug life pug life.
Onward and...pugward!
Next stop, well, we could both use a break. Let’s go to the bar. We went to Nick’s Famous Coney Island, a place in Southeast Portland, which is oddly not a strip club, contrary to my usual habits. However, they serve a top-notch chili dog, and no, I’m not getting paid to talk up their chili dogs or anything—this is from the heart. They’re a Portland institution, in that they’ve been there for nearly a hundred years, and a friend (a former stripper, whom I believe was featured in this very magazine, in a state of undress, some years back) provides administration for the joint on certain shifts, and they love dogs of the non-chili variety, such as discount pugs.
Whew! Busy day for a discount pug.
What’s next?
Well, buckle up, fuckers. We’re takin’ the ol’ discount pug to the Asian shopping mall.
Don’t make the joke. It’s tired. Nobody’s gonna try and eat her, scrumptious though she may seem.
I’m there to buy that killer dumpling sauce in the square bottle, potstickers with weird fillings, and soft drinks with no English on them. Tally ho, discount pug! On to further adventure!
Assuredly, I did get the items I was in search of. Nobody cared about the presence of the discount pug, save for an older Asian man who asked me what her name was. "Daisy." "Oh, good name." "Yeah, she came with it, from the factory."
However, they have those move-and-shake kiddie rides there. Thus, I had to stick her discount ass on the Dumbo ride.
A hard day’s pugging, to be sure.
After all that adventure, I took her back home, and she slept the sleep of angels. Angels who snort, snuffle and snore...and wedge themselves in between the sofa cushions I put blankets on, in an effort to keep pug hair off the couch.
While this may be an odd article, I feel it is instructional. After all, you all never know when you yourselves may become the stewards of a discount pug or pug of another value rating. It can happen to anyone.
I also tried to scan her at the self-check once. Sadly, no discount is provided when you run a discount pug butt over a laser. It did beep, though, which has me asking questions—questions to which there are no good answers.
She was subsequently returned to her masters, who were none the wiser in regard to our escapades.
Take care, and pug on.
-Wombstretcha
Wombstretcha the Magnificent is a temporary pug shepherd, chili dog enthusiast, stripper patron, writer, and retired rapper from Portland, OR. He can be found at Wombstretcha.com, on Twitter as @Wombstretcha503 and on Facebook (boo!) and MeWe (yay!) as "Wombstretcha The Magniflcent."
