What I Wish I’d Known Before I Got a Pug…
It has now been just over a year ago since my parents first announced that we were getting a pug. I must say that at the time I did not feel particularly enthusiastic about such a prospect. I didn’t have much to go on either. I hadn’t really seen many pugs and I mostly thought of them as kind of ugly and not particularly intelligent dogs. I had also read that they were extremely lazy, loud snorers, and greedy guts when it came to all things food-related. You can see why I felt somewhat reserved about my parents’ choice of breed. That being said however, my perception of pugs has definitely changed after meeting Finn. I still think they are ugly, but in a weirdly cute way. Just as a movie can be so bad that it actually turns out to be good. Yes, we can easily have a debate on whether pugs are cute or not and I’m aware that there is probably a half way split in terms of what people think. Instead I want to touch on some of the things I wish I’d known before I had to look after a pug and to illustrate I will recall some of my personal experiences and observations. Educational for some, comic for others — this piece isn’t just aimed at prospective pug owners, but also those looking for a chuckle.
I have already mentioned the appearance, but I will reiterate my point anyway. Pugs are not typically good looking — they are more of a mix of goofy and clumsy with a certain je ne sais quoi of dopiness. This of course means that you might be taken aback by their appearance at first but may later find that it actually grows on you. Just as an acquired taste develops over time. This next observation — I’m not sure whether it is something unique to Finn or common amongst other pugs but ever since being a few months old he exhibited a lot of cat-like mannerisms (he was probably a cat in his previous life, if such concepts exists). Naturally, that led to some hysterical situations because it is something completely opposite to what you expect. But it doesn’t stop there. Even more absurd is the ritual that Finn sticks to religiously day in and day out. It always commences after he finishes a meal and it runs like clockwork. The first phase of the ritual is characterised by him dragging his bed (which is bigger than him I might add) around the kitchen for about 20 minutes. In all honesty, I have never considered the reasons which might motivate one to behave in such manner but that’s besides the point. The next stage begins when the initial energy boost from food runs out. At this stage Finn typically attempts to fold the bed in half and proceeds to hump it. Whilst all of this is happening, he would be turning his guilty mug around to make sure that nobody is looking and his scarily human-like facial expressions blow the whole situation to the next level of bizarre. Even after being constantly told off for sexually assaulting his bed, Finn still choses to commit these despicable acts and incorporates this phase into his post-feeding ritual to this day. During the final stage of his routine, Finn finds his favourite toy and actually suckles himself to sleep, just as with a pacifier. Originally I thought that this was going to pass and it was only something puppies did, but I was proven wrong again. A year later it is still a cornerstone to his routine. For me however, something different takes the first prize in terms of weirdness and it is a liking for rocks that Finn developed. I mean, he literally cannot stop eating rocks. At first I tried to rationalise this rock fetish with scientific explanations comparing Finn to some dinosaurs who were known to eat rocks in order to aid their digestion but deep down I knew that the greatest motivator of this behaviour was simply a lack of intellect. That and the unfortunate fact that we have a lot of pebbles in our garden. I cannot recall exactly when his obsession with rocks began, but in hindsight I feel that it could had been avoided if Finn wasn’t constantly surrounded by gravel. Later upon referring to google I have actually discovered that he is not the only rock-eating pug and that it is actually a common problem. It almost feels like I am writing a review, so to conclude, here is my verdict. Do I think pugs are the best breed? I don’t know. Do I think they are easy to train? No, not really. But then again, I am not Cesar Millan. Is it an interesting breed? Definitely — the general weirdness and the daily antics are second to none. Is that a valid criteria to base a choice of breed on? Probably not.
