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Heaven help me, I dressed my dog in a bat
costume. This can’t be good. Next I’ll be wearing Bermuda shorts with black
socks and wingtips, combing wispy strands of hair to cover my scalp, and
watching Home Shopping Network. I need help, quickly.
Oh, to heck with it. She is
simply precious. I’d always hoped to age gracefully but it’s apparently too
late. I’ve gone gaga for Ollie, our 16-month-old pug.
Thus the bat suit, though in my defense I’m not gone enough to dress
up the dog for my own amusement. I
did it for “Pug Sunday,” an event for pug lovers held in at least a couple of
California cities the first Sunday of each month.
My wife discovered
Pug Sunday through a flier at our veterinarian’s office, and while we both have
an eye for the absurd she is more inclined to embrace it. Earlier this year we
stumbled across a magazine called Pug Talk; always alert for ways to advance my
writing career, she immediately suggested I submit a column I wrote on Ollie
last year as a way of adding a national publication to my resume.
Yeah, that will get
their attention at The New York Times – “As seen in Pug Talk!”
The event we
attended drew about 45 animals and their owners, most in seasonal garb (the
dogs, not the owners). While which costume was goofiest is a judgment call, it
turns out there are sillier things than a pug in a bat suit.
Frankenpug comes to mind. Also
known as Shilo, this calm (for a pug) animal bore a striking resemblance to the
movie monster even without a costume. Come to think of it, all pugs do.
I had a soft spot for Winston,
who won the prize for “best behaved.” Nicely done as a caterpillar, he’d have
been a dead ringer for his namesake had he instead been equipped with a bowler
and stogie. Also eye-catching was Spock, a black pug who made a striking
pumpkin. And I can’t leave out grand prizewinner Puggy, whose purple-feathered
get-up defied description. Think Jesse Ventura in his wrestling days, but
better mannered.
Then there was Ollie the Batpug.
Technically my daughter’s, Ollie is our de facto family dog. A dog I didn’t
want, a dog that came only after several months of arm-twisting.
Her charms are still not
immediately evident. While some find the breed cute, my guess is that they
inspired medieval artists to carve the first gargoyles. The best a website
describing various breeds could scrape up for a pug’s “special ability” was
“pet,” though ours is also a gifted garbage scavenger and sifter of kitty
litter. This may explain why she needs more baths than any dog we’ve ever
owned, always smelling vaguely like creosote.
Though my daughter gave the
little beast her real name, I have dubbed her SLMFD, short for Smelly Little
Monkey-Faced Dog. I don’t know what her attraction is for certain; call it
charisma. In any event I take comfort in knowing I am not alone. Ollie has
captured the entire household, feline members excepted. If she doesn’t exactly
run the place, it is clearly operated for her convenience.
Ollie was a hit on Pug Sunday,
but then they all were. She came away with second place in the “scariest
costume” category, behind a pug dressed like a spider. Shilo the Frankenpug won
for funniest outfit.
A good time was had by all, even
if I am still coming to grips with the fact that I have become a 46-year-old man
who dresses up his dog. Early dementia? Perhaps, but if my mid-life crisis
bottoms out here I’ll count myself blessed.
© 1997- 2002 Brent Morrison
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