​​​​​​Because humor is funnier when you know it's true.

The pug hoarder


I've reached that empty nest stage in life where I should be collecting cats so that everyone can accuse me of being a cat lady....but instead, I hoard pugs. Right now I have three, and I'd have a lot more if my husband didn't keep deleting my emails from the pug rescue website. Those smooshie noses and big ol' bug eyes get me every time. The pug head tilt is my undoing!

The three dogs I have are all quite distinctive, and I spoil them rotten because they're my fur babies and they deserve the best! My oldest (and first) pug was found in the streets of Miami, orphaned by his family. It didn't take me long to figure out why---Brewski has a bladder valve that I swear is constantly open. Doesn't matter if he's outside or inside; every tree and every sofa leg is fair game to him. He wears doggy diapers, but sometimes they spring a leak. Needless to say, I spend a lot on carpet cleaners. But he has a gentle soul and loves nothing more than to have his lower back scratched while we're on the couch together, binge watching Netflix. Yes, Brewski loves watching The Crown.

My second pug was also found wandering the city streets alone when a dog rescue group saved her from the pug-thug life. Savi is my diva princess; the Kardashian of pugs. Doggy tiaras were invented for girls like her. If it's raining outside, she refuses to get her delicate paws wet and would much rather take a dump on my expensive carpet. She also hoards 2/3rds of the bed at night and snores like a freight train. Did I mention that she prefers satin sheets? Savi is my spirit animal; a spoiled girl who values her naps and expects to be hand-fed filet mignon. But she is also an affectionate girl who sits on my lap and stares at me with adoration in her eyes as if I am a human pork chop.

My youngest pug is the first dog I ever bought as a puppy from a breeder. If the Energizer Bunny and the Tasmanian Devil ever mated, Yoda would be the result. He just turned two, but he's a "late maturing puppy." There is no such thing as boundaries for this pug; he has no problem sitting on your face, biting your ears or licking your nostrils until you pay attention to him. If you don't like getting a doggy facial, I advise you to pick up the nasty wet sock he drops in your lap and play a rousing game of tug-of-war. Sometimes I wonder if the organic dog food I give him is laced with caffeine. He runs around the room, scaling the couches and coffee table at speeds that even Mario Andretti would envy.

The thing about Yoda is that he likes to CHEW.....like, EVERYTHING. He whittled my wooden barstool legs down to toothpicks and turned his doggy bed into a loose pile of fluffy cotton. But I found a way to beat him at his own game by purchasing a special dog bed that is chew-proof. Same goes for his toys. He needed something that would last, and I'm relieved that I found indestructible  dog toys to keep him busy so that I don't have to come home to a sofa that looks like it has been put through a Chipper Shredder. I could never get angry at him, though. All he has to do is flash those big brown eyes at me and I melt.

This is my life with pugs, and I wouldn't have it any other way. There's always room for more....just don't tell my husband....

-Marcia Kester Doyle

Marcia Kester Doyle is the author of the humor book, "Who Stole My Spandex? Life In The Hot Flash Lane," and the voice behind the midlife blog, Menopausal Mother. Her work has appeared in The Washington Post, Cosmopolitan, Woman's Day, Good Housekeeping, House Beautiful, Country Living, and The Huffington Post, among others.