Everyone knows of the stupid cliche propagated by obnoxious schoolgirls that such a thing exists as love at first sight. I cynically rejected such a childish notion for my first four months of life. Then, like with asinine comments from conservative commentators, I was overwhelmed by the flurry of emotion brought upon by one small being. Unlike my normal feelings upon watching Fox News, I did not reach for a pitch fork or torch; but rather I immediately sought out the beautiful sub-three pound temptress that so entranced me. I am, of course, referring to Angel Maggie of the Pug farm. I aggressively declared my love, but alas my love was unrequited. Maggie said she would be happy to be my friend, and even happier to accept gifts of stuffed toys and gem-studded collars, but her heart was too pure to give her love to a single pug, even if he was royalty and likely to eventually dominate the Eastern Seaboard. Gifts would have been showered upon her, but my lack of opposable thumbs and inability to master Microsoft's mail-merge technology prevented them from reaching their intended target. So, like so many others, I admired dear Maggie from afar, assuming that there would always be plenty of opportunity to do so. As it turns out this was incorrect. While I may have initially taken my first rejection hard, I am a much stronger pug for having known my dear Maggie.
One of the things that attracted me to Maggie, besides her unequaled beauty, was her sense of style. This is her in a lovely pink tutu.
Lo and behold I, as pictured above, possess the same tutu. I think her shapeliness filled the dress much better than my thick self.
We also both seemed to have the habit of attempting to bite off far more than we could chew. For instance, she attempted here to eat an entire pumpkin; while I attempted on several occasions to eat an entire size nine snow-boot.