My pug is a bright little critter – let me tell you. He will give any actor today a run for their money. He can play the sweet lovable type with his puppy dog eyes and his laying of his wrinkled head on his paws while he stares at you, knowing he’s in a heap of trouble again for licking the couch to within an inch of its life. When he’s mad, he has this bug eyed expression, stomps his paw all while doing a interpretive rain dance around the cat when she refuses to play with him. With one cock of his head and his “Aruuu?” face, Wiggles can change the mood of a room as people wonder what is next and, even better – his “I didn’t do it ma!” face as I bust him yet again for thievery.
Wiggles is going through his Oliver Twist phase. It started briefly with his stuffing of his head in my purse “just to look.” Over time, it’s gotten rampant with him stealing things from trash, pens, clothing items to even M&M bags – hiding everything under the bed or couch. I finally had reached my wits end with hearing him go under the bed to his “hideaway” while hearing him rustle something over and over and over again. It was a treasure trove of lost items that he had amassed, including my favorite black sweater (swiped from the laundry basket), pens, my calendar, some dollar bills, a M&M bag that he had tried fervently to open and contact lens packaging taken from the bathroom trash.
He’s even reached a new phase of food thievery – namely Doritos, preferably Cool Ranch. One night on the couch, I had a few and rolled up the bag to put on the end table. I forgot about it and, when running late to work the next morning, I spied the rolled up bag and thought “Crap, I should put it away – but it’s safe, Wiggy won’t touch it”. Returning home late yet again, don’t ya know, the bag was on the couch – still rolled up – positioned ever so delicately on Wiggy’s couch pillow. I put it out of my mind as he was nowhere near it and he was by the door begging to be taken outside. After returning from his evening constitutional, we return to the apartment and I rush to start a load of laundry. While I’m in the laundry room, again I hear his constant rustling which then is quickly followed by fervent chomping. Now I know something is wrong and I run to the living room.
In the middle of the couch sitting on his pillow is King Pug chomping on a Cool Ranch Dorito while swiftly maneuvering yet another chip out of the bag with his paw so as not to disturb the bag’s rolled-up appearance. As the bag was 3/4 empty by the discovery period, clearly he had more than one. He probably channeled his inner Peg Bundy, munching on chips throughout the afternoon as he watched the Food Network, remote in hand.
Clearly, he’s a sneaky little imp and, like most men, he insists on holding the remote.
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