I am driven by the joy of fetching sticks and balls and anything else my humans may wish to throw for me.
A greyhound or a whippet, my breed doesn’t matter because I am so fast. I am just a blur as I race through the park.
You’ll never get a good look at me, you’ll just hear me coming, and then marvel as you try to watch me race off.
Then I remember I am just a little Pug. I am neither graceful nor flashy.
I need help keeping warm in the snow.
When large dogs approach, I am leery and cautious.
My eye sight is poor. Not that I have any desire to fetch, even if I could see where the stick went.
I may not use the dog park to its fullest potential, but I still love going. I love the new smells and running off-leash – even if I do mostly stick to following within my mum’s shadow. People do stop to pet me and coo over me because I am that cute. They make comments about how well-trained I am and how they wish their dogs would stick close to them, rather than run about and not return when called.
And there are days when, despite my insecurities, I do manage to make a new friend.
As the song says, It ain’t easy being
green a pug.
But I am
green a pug and it’ll do fine.
And I think it’s what I want to be.