Aren't they terrifying?
But really, I'm convinced that puggles are bipolar.
One moment (and by one moment, I mean 95% of the day), they're
sprawled out on the couch or curled up in a ball on our bed or any other
soft object they can find, like the clothes I happened to leave on the bedroom floor.
The next moment, with just one knock on the door or the rattle of another dog's leash
outside, BAM, they're tearing down the door with their pokey, sharp nails.
And this tiny one, she's unstoppable. For example, the other afternoon I was
awkwardly working out in the living room when we heard the softest, wimpiest knock on the door.
I ignored it, hoping it was just the mailman delivering me some sweet loot,
but the knocking persisted. And my attack dogs persisted in their plan to ravage the door.
I scooped Dobby up and cracked the door open.
It was our awkward next door neighbor...the one who makes faces at the
dogs while they bark at him. What commenced was one of the most awkward neighborly
exchanges of all time, beginning with the fact that I was a hot, sweaty, workout mess.
Then add the fact that I'm holding a tiny dog who is LITERALLY scratching the poo
out of my chest, a second dog cowering between my legs but trying his hardest
to be all manly and bark at the potential intruder and our neighbor standing all awkward like
and attempting to ask me if I like coffee. Um, what? Is that a trick question?
He proceeded to inform me that the Coffee Bean was holding a sale that night,
and I strained to hear him over Dobby's rabid shrieking.
This is ridiculous, I thought. So I put her down. She had to warm up to him, right?
Or perhaps she could just try to jump up his leg and bite his fingers.
You know how some people are clearly not dog people?
This guy was not a dog people.
So, with my face beet red, I grabbed Dobby, thanked him and slunk back into the house,
nursing the claw wounds I sustained during that particular interaction.
So much awkward. That tiny lady is a crabby face.
And guess what?
Today the maintenance department is supposed to be stopping by to
"make sure everything is up to code", which means I get to spend another lovely
chunk of time trying to restrain a squirmy, squealing turd while wearing my
"oh, no worries, this is normal, guys" face.
I hope they fix our leaky kitchen faucet, at least.
P.S. Thank you to everyone who entered the BlueBird Bride Giveaway on Black Friday.
I'm excited to announce that the winner is Amber M!
(Amber, I'm shooting you an email right now!)
And if, like me, you never win...don't forget, you can save 15% with the promo code: FALL2012.