Funny how God works. Just as I’m sitting there, thinking, “hmmm… no one liked me humping a washing machine. What should I write about?” something happens.
Remember my pugs? Familiarize yourself. Ready? Ok. Harles gets kind of gaggy sometimes, and makes throwing up noises without throwing up. 49 out of 50 times, it’s just the noise. This time? Puke. They were laying in a pug pile next to me on the couch, and I thought nothing of his pukey-noise until I realized it was in fact puke. That’s why we have a washable protective cover on our couch. (That, and Sophie’s neurotic licking, but that’s another story.) Where did Harley puke?
All. Over. Sophie. (And Sophie? Had no idea.)
I had my hands full leading Sophie into the kitchen to clean her, making sure Harley was ok, and attempting to keep Dixie from eating the puke (puppy mill dogs will do strange things) and couldn’t take a pic. But I went ahead and made an illustration for you.
Anyone who says that having dogs isn’t a big deal or a lot of work? Crazy. I should TOTALLY be allowed to engage in mommy conversations because I’m pretty sure no mothers have to worry about one kid puking on another, that kid not NOTICING, and a third kid thinking it’s free dinner.
I washed Sophie’s torso and tail, furminated her, and then sprayed her with some doggy fragrance. (Yes, we have dog fragrance. It’s an all-natural dog freshener spray. Judge away.) Big Daddy slept through this. I deserve an award of pug-momma awesomeness.
kjpugs: ordinary in indiana 
I think dog owners qualify as pretty badass parents. Seriously, we have no biological tie to these strange creatures, and still are willing to pick up their poop (with a bag covered hand) every day for years. And it doesn’t end with the end of one dog’s life. Because we’re suckers. And you can’t just have one dog. So this strange ritual of handling poop, cleaning up vomit, and smelling farts in the middle of the night (okay, that one we apparently can’t get enough of, because not only do we have dogs, but husbands too…), lasts for 50 years or more – if we’re lucky enough to survive the mayhem they put us through for that long.
Good work, pug momma!
Thank for the illustration. My imagination needs a little help. 😉
Ack! I agree with Brandi! And despite the whole college education thing, we deserve to claim them as dependents too! Doggie puke is the worst… my Harley doesn’t have too much of a problem with it but Rocco does..
Awww haha poor you. And poor Harles and Sophie… you DO deserve an award! You are one hard working pug mama!!
xo
haaaa! love this!
Just the other day, as I was pulling a full-sized paper towel out of Pearl’s rear-end, as it did not quite digest, I was thinking that us dog-owners are totes more prepared for kids. And we have strongwer stomachs.
Good times.
PS hug your 3 cuties for me!!!
My best friend has a yorkie and a german shepherd, and the things she goes through with those dogs I would not wish on ANYONE. Maybe it’s easier having one? I don’t know. But I am in LOVE with pugs.. Love Love Love them… but the husband wants a big ol’ collie. Which I know for sure that my little Gator Kitty would love a pug more then a collie. For sure.