Thursday, June 20, 2013

A Wrinkle in Time: Pugstock 2013

Okay people, I'm ready to talk pugs.

Frankly, I'm always ready to talk pugs.- I'm one of those people now. We pretty much all saw that coming though, so let's get over our shock and onto our genetically questionable little mushfaces, shall we? 

We shall.

This post is going to be light on writing because that's not why you're here. You're here to see pugs. Pugs playing, pugs panting, pugs wagging their little donut tails. And who could blame you? That's why I went to Pugstock, too.

I'll just say this: Pugstock is a great thing. It's a well-organized, well-attended, welcoming event that made me feel like I belonged even though I'm definitely new to this "pet ownership" game. The organization it benefits, "Under My Wing Pug Rescue", is a small, dedicated group of folks who are committed to finding homes for these little morose-faced cuddlebugs and they've been great to us - going so far as to help find Lily when she pulled a runner. They've answered our questions with good-natured patience and even gave us a bed to put her in when we picked her up. If you're looking for a good group of people to donate to, these guys could definitely use the cash. Anyway. Let's get down to brass tacks:

We bought Lily a fancy dress a few days before the event so that she'd look her best for all the 2-legs and 4-legs alike. She took the dress-up, like most of the things we throw at her, with good humour and a little bit of depression.









But then she realized we were taking her in the car, so all was forgiven. We can't tell if she likes the car or if it stresses her out, but she always wags her tail and pants like me during a 5K as soon as the engine turns over so we're going to side with "positive experience" for now.








 When we got there, it was basically my dream come true. Pugs (and pug-friendly people and animals) as far as the eye could see! These little fellows (and ladies) are the pugs that were up for adoption at the time. I fell in love with Shandu - one of the larger pugs in the green harnesses. Lucky is the person who gets to wake up to her insane, smiling mug every morning.





Lily was really well-behaved, especially considering the amount of noise and action that was going on in the community centre. She even made a few friends!*



*sniffed half-heartedly at a few dogs' back ends. But she did seem rather fond of this little guy, who she went over to immediately. ---->





There were competitions for oldest pug, best trick, longest distance travelled, etc. This one was for "cutest wrinkles" - a tough field, to be sure and great contenders, all of them. We considered signing Lily up for "best head tilt" but she really does it best when I sing the first two lines of Chicago's "If You Leave Me Now". It was too loud for her to hear my voice above all the others, so I decided to leave my Peter Cetera impression for another day.




While my unbiased opinion is that our little lady had the cutest attire, I definitely was fond of the "mama's boys" shirts on this dashing duo.









I have nothing of substance to add to this photo of an adorable chubby pug wearing a scarf.












Lily took her first (for charity!) nail clipping like a champ. At first she didn't know what was going on. Then she did. Now I doubt we'll get her to submit to it so easily again.










There were other awesome dogs there, too, including Charger, below on the left, who counts cell phone and remote ingesting among his finest talents. The Great Dane on the right looked like Gulliver among the Lilliputians for most of the day. So great.


But, all good things must come to an end, so after a few hours of sniffing, wagging and petting, we trotted our little Miss back to the car for a well-deserved nap. 


Oh, and apropos of nothing? We also saw this sign that same weekend and it is, by far, my favourite garage sale sign of all time.

It's also printed on the back of a Labatt Blue beer box. Game, set, match.


Tuesday, June 11, 2013

Everybody's working for the weekend


Whew! Life has been kind of hectic around here and I admit that I haven't spent time stopping to smell the roses*. Almost all the chaos has been positive, though, so I can't complain. I've half-written a couple of posts on my very recent, very stellar weekends but the general fast-pace of life (read: lengthy naps) has kept them from being polished and posted.

Let me take you back, waaay back to the May 2-4 weekend, which was the first of many lovely breaks. I gave it some serious thought while drinking sangria and sniffing lilacs and I think Victoria Day is my favourite long weekend of the entire year. I mean, most holidays there are some spectacular expectations placed upon you: family get-togethers, lavish parties, time-consuming meals - but not Victoria Day. No, no. Queen Vicki asks nothing more of you than to walk down to the liquor store, put a folding chair in your backyard and sit in the sun until you crisp like a Frito.


Well, Ms. V, I like to say I did my part for Queen and Country.

The weather was gorgeous here that weekend. My back area is nothing special to look at (that reads dirtier than it did in my head), so my family very kindly offered to help me tidy it up. My dad and TB put together the remainder of our patio furniture (delightfully called a "chat set"), my mom and I weeded and planted, my sister... well, I'm pretty sure she just bothered the dog, but the company was nice. We added earth to the front yard so that it looked less like it did back in February and more like an actual thing you'd want to look at. I'd insert a picture here but it's still in rough shape and, frankly, I keep forgetting to snap a photo on my way out the door.

In the back we were faced with a plethora of options for planting, but we settled on tomatoes, cucumbers, green beans, peppers, lettuce, strawberries, dill, basil, irises, wood violets, and some other plant I've already forgotten the name of; I'm equally excited about all of them. Okay, maybe a bit more excited for carrots because TS has recently gotten into canning and I love pickled carrots more than anyone under the age of 75 should have the right to.

I got a killer sunburn, for which I am entirely and regrettably responsible, and relaxed the days away in asphalt-covered comfort.

They were pretty relaxed, too.
Tune in next time to read about young men selling their youth, a sideways-walking dog, and the glory, the unspeakable happiness that is: Pugstock. Yes, Pugstock. I'm almost moved to tears just thinking about it.



*a lie. I've pretty much only been smelling roses, I just haven't blogged about it, lucky for you.