Wake up call

In the mornings, Oliver used to jump on me when he woke up. It was quite annoying, to be jarred from sleep with four pug paws pressing into your stomach and face.

Recently Oliver has stopped jumping all over me, which I credit in part to his maturing and being able to hold it together more so than before. Now, he just crawls closer to my face, and stares. He stares at me as if the staring would will me from sleep. And when my eyes pop open, he gets really excited.

Here’s the face I wake up to now.

flashback

 

 

I took this picture the very first day I met Oliver.

Look at those eyes. I should’ve known then- I was in trouble.

Four eyes

Possible captions when writing this post:

“I’m deep and intellectual.”

“I’m a candidate for LASIK.”

“Mom, I hate you.”

“I’m ready for Halloween!”

 

I considered a number of things for Oliver’s first Halloween. My first thought was to buy a Yoda costume, but upon further inspection at Target, I realized with his temperament it just wouldn’t work.

So, I sprung instead for the hot dog costume. I’d say this was a win.

Pug life

A day in the life: eat, sleep, repeat 3x.

fear of abandonment

It didn’t manifest itself right away, but in the days before I moved out of the house I was renting with some friends, Oliver became increasingly needy.

He’s always been aware of my patterns. For example, when I get ready in the mornings, he goes berserk when he sees me put on shoes because he knows I’ll soon be leaving. Normally when I leave in the mornings, Oliver is pretty quiet. My roommates have told me that it’s almost as if he doesn’t exist as he can be so quiet sometimes.  This past week, however, my roommate Emily let me know that after I would leave she could hear whining and howling and crate rattling. It broke my heart.

On Saturday I put Oliver in the crate again while we were moving things in and out just to keep him from getting in the way or running out the door. He was so stressed out, he was visibly shaking. I also could not get enough space last night he was cuddled so close when we went to bed.

Throughout today he’s calmed down considerably. Still needy, but not quite the Velcro Pug that existed earlier in the week.

Birthday boy, Part 2

 

Tuesday after work I came home and brought out all the treats I bought for him at PetSmart (salmon treats, a rawhide, a stuffed animal, and a rope).

(please ignore the eyesore trash can)

After playing for a bit, I left Ollie with his two new toys and took off for a quick run (which went better than anticipated, yay!).

About 30 minutes later when I got home, I came up the stairs and saw this…

Notice the stuffed animal’s arm under the coffee table.

 

I tried, what can I say?

Birthday boy

 

My pug is now a one year old.

 

Older, but not necessarily wiser :)

 

 

Nonetheless he's made my life richer and more entertaining.

 

No words.

 

His Royal Highness

“I’ve taken over your bed as my own. Now you must kiss my paw, peasant!”

Passed out pug

 

Not that this has changed much, but when Oliver was a puppy, he slept hard. You could poke him, pick him up, play with his paws, his ears- and he would not wake up. He’d continue snoring in his deep sleep. It was adorable.

These days he’s a little more alert and when he’s sleeping and you play his paws or something, he tends to at least open one eye for a brief second before resuming sleep.

Last week, my sister and I were driving back from Hilton Head when he wormed his way into my sister’s lap for the duration of the drive. He passed out. We poked him. Played with his paws. My sister picked him up, and he continued to sleep, thus providing us a great photo opportunity. He is the sweetest, the cutest.

The lobster

 

 

A few months ago at PetSmart I picked up a stuffed lobster (notice it in the corner of the photo?)  for Oliver to play with. I thought he might treat it like his other toys- “one of the many,” and would play with it if it struck his fancy.

Strangely though, this one has become a favorite. It’s honestly the first thing he looks for first thing in the morning (he even carried outside one morning), and I’ve noticed several times that he’ll run all the way upstairs just to get his lobster and brings it back into the living room. It’s adorable.

Creature of comfort

 

Oliver somehow finds a way to burrow under the covers in such an adorable way. In this case, it looked like a teepee, with his head poking out.

Destruction

 

As cute as this dog is, we have been having some issues recently.

I think Oliver is currently going through a “stage,” something maybe comparable to what they call the “terrible twos,” even though I have never experienced that phenomenon and don’t plan on it for a very long time. He’s been ruining a number of things recently, like:

• coffee tables
• living room rugs
• Bob Dylan cds
• Tory Burch flats

And the coup de grâce- my Tiffany earrings that I received as a college graduation gift. There are no words to describe how angry and even more confused I am as to why he decided sterling silver studs were appetizing.

Annoying pug

I’ve been in a less than stellar mood over the last few days, and combined with a killer headache that I can’t shake, I have been super pleasant. Not surprisingly, Oliver has been annoying every fiber of my being.

This evening, when I was browsing iTunes for some new music, he climbed on my bed, and stared at me over my screen.

Of course, with that face, my annoyance quickly dissipated.

Sleeping Pug, Part Two

 

While Oliver does play hard, he is a pug- and by nature has a tendency to be the ultimate lounger. 

On Sunday I was doing my normal Sunday stuff- putting away groceries, cooking my breakfast for the week (I love steel cut oatmeal but I don’t love the time it takes), and making lunch for Monday. I’m walking towards the couch and I see this:

He was passed out.

That is, until I came around the other side to get another picture. He woke up, but didn’t move an inch. Yes, that’s right- he’s practically upside down.

What a piece of work.

Sleeping pug

Oliver loves to play.

Because of this love of playtime, this means he naps hard.

Example:

This is a regular sleeping position for Oliver.

What a weirdo.

Mood lifter

My love for my pug seems to grow more everyday. That sounds incredibly cheesy, but I’m almost obsessed with him. He still has his quirks that annoy me to no end, but most of the time, I find Oliver to be an instant mood lifter. You really can’t help but smile and relax a little bit when you see that face.

Sickly

So, Oliver has had his first bout of an uneasy stomach, to put it nicely.  Unfortunately, little Ollie consumed a food item that he shouldn’t have, and his little pug stomach is paying the price. The funny part is, is that aside from the increased amount of bathroom time and the byproduct (sorry, I’m trying to keep this as pleasant as possible), you really can’t tell he’s not feeling 100%.  He does his business and not long after he’s ready to play. Jumping, trying to lick your face, running back and forth.

I wish I was that go with the flow when I’m not feeling well. Maybe I could take a lesson or two from him.

Privileged

 

Oliver is a privileged pug. We all know this. I mean, look at the picture. He’s sitting on my bed like it’s totally normal.

Lately, he’s getting all kinds of special treatment. This morning when I was taking Oliver out for his morning bathroom break before work, I decided I really had no desire to put him back in his crate. He’s been extremely well behaved lately- very few accidents, and does remarkably well whenever I leave him out around the house for short periods of time. I decided: today was The Day. No more crate! A full day out in the living room.

He was kind of confused when I didn’t take him back upstairs, but I’m pretty sure he made himself at home on the couch once I left. One of my roommates gets home from work a bit earlier than I do and I get a text confirming that he is indeed an Awesome Pug.

“No accidents! Just chillin’ out! This dog is amazing.”

Fitting in

 

Ever wonder how it is that dog just fits into your life?

I mean, you spend your time preparing for one, you pick one out, you bring it home. You provide for it in all the necessary ways, but that doesn’t always mean that the dog you bring home will work for you. You might not mesh. Things may not work out. It happens all the time.

I wonder sometimes, because after Cory, I wanted another pug for a long time, and very badly. I picked out the name Oliver before I even met the pug that would be my Oliver. While I researched who I would be getting him from, knew what I would feed him, everything-  I picked him solely because he was the biggest of the liter and because he was awake and active. In fact, I thought he was an odd looking little punk. I had no instincts that he would be a good fit.

But he is the perfect pug for me. He fits the name Oliver so perfectly. It’s kind of amazing. How exactly does that just work?

Just some random thoughts for you. This comes to mind often for me, but on Monday when I came home for a few hours in the morning, we just laid on the couch together watching tv and I thought again how good of a decision it was to get him.

A few things

 

This picture reminds me that windows do need cleaning on a regular basis, especially when you have a dog that presses his already smushed face against it for no reason.

Aside from that, this evening I put Oliver’s new harness on and we took off a 1.5 mile walk. Not too far, but for his little pug legs I’m sure that was enough.  The harness is such a dream compared to a regular collar. While he still has a tendency to pull, it doesn’t affect him as much and he just seemed so much more comfortable and happy. I really enjoyed our walk and watching him prance ahead in front of me.

When we got home, he was pooped. After drinking tons of water, he plopped down in front of the windows and watched the world go by.

New accessory

Oliver has been needing a harness for awhile. At times when we’re out walking, he gets so excited about the most random things (twigs, leaves, gravel, mulch) that he’ll basically start charging after it not realizing that there is in fact something around his neck that prevents him from going too far.

Over the weekend I finally ordered a puppia harness, and when I got it on Monday (a quick delivery!) I promptly put it on him for quick modeling session. It’s pretty awesome. I can tell he’s much more comfortable with the leash. And, bonus, he looks pretty adorable in it too.

Celebration

I turned 25 this past weekend, and we decided Oliver needed a big part in the fun. So we went to Target, for the sole purpose of buying birthday hats. After adjusting the elastic, we finally got it to fit on his head.

He wasn’t thrilled.

Eventually he shook the cone hat around and decided it was a new toy.

Hilariously, the diameter of the cone was bigger than the front of his face. When he started walking around he couldn’t see anything and was blindly walking in circles. With the cone over his nose, he sounded like Darth Vader. Except, you know, more cheerful looking. It was incredibly funny and adorable.

Sunbathing- kind of

Oliver’s gotten to be a much better companion when driving in the car. Recently he’s taken to standing on the arm rest of the door, watching all the people and traffic as we drive along.

This past week I was taking him with me when I went to go have dinner with my dad. Halfway through our ride I noticed Oliver just staring… up. Then I realized he had just discovered the sun roof. Hence the photo. Apparently the moving sky was incredibly awe-inspiring.

Paw in the face

Oliver and Benji tend to get very territorial over rawhides. Oliver has a collection of them, accumulated by visits to the grandparents where they spoil him with treats. Benji steals them. Then they have tug of war over who gets it. You would think Oliver would win, seeing as he’s bigger and weighs more, but Benji often outsmarts him.

Oliver doesn’t have many tactics, but one of them is the ever effective Paw in the Face. Battle over.

pug + maltipoo

 

Oliver’s bff is my roommate’s dog, Benji. By some kind of miracle I was able to snap this shot of the both of them sitting at the same time. Normally, one goes nuts before I can get any sort of photo.

At dinner recently, the roommates and I were discussing what kind of personalities they would have if they were human. We quickly decided that Benji would be French. He just seems to “float” every where and seems sophisticated in his own little puppy way.

Oliver, on the other hand, we decided was a Texan. Loud, playful, and not so graceful. It was a riot.

Hiding out

Early on I noticed Oliver had a thing for hanging out under my bed. In the beginning it was more of an exploratory thing- I could hear him scrambling around, going in one side and coming out the other. It was clearly entertaining for him.

Lately I’ve noticed that he just goes under my bed…and hangs out there. Whenever I look under my bed, I can see him with one or more of his toys, or sometimes he just chooses to sleep under there. Now that he knows I’ll pull him back out, he’s gotten smarter and gets closer towards the middle of the bed- where I can’t reach him no matter which direction or side I attempt to get him from.

I took this picture one morning before heading off to work. It was adorable and a perfect representation of how he spends his downtime.

Shake, shake, shake

 

Over the past week, I’ve made it a goal to teach Oliver to shake.

We got off a slow start, with him looking at me like I had three heads.

“What is this ‘shaking business’ you speak of? Where are my treats? Don’t you know I don’t do this stuff for free?”

Eventually, after several days and more treats than I’d care to admit, Oliver finally knows how to shake.

But he still looks at me like  I have three heads.

Crying for Attention, Part II

 

So, this past weekend as I was sitting at the table, minding my own business, Oliver comes and starts to lick my leg. Not unusual.

Then he started jumping on me, numerous times. After a few tries I scolded him and said “NO.”

That’s where he got bold. A few minutes later, I felt something warm on my foot.

HE PEED ON MY FOOT.

He got mad that I wouldn’t pick him up to sit on my lap, and in return he peed on my foot.

After cleaning up and dragging him out from under the couch where he was hiding (he knew he did wrong), we had a chat.

“Oliver. I feed you. I walk you. I clean up after you. I buy you toys. THIS IS WHAT I GET?”

He then tried to lick my face.

The end.

Crying for Attention

 

Before you go on and say, “I told you so,” (because nothing annoys me more than people telling me the obvious)  let me just say I knew this day would probably happen. I will also say that I’m actually not mad. Why? Because those shoes were looking pretty pathetic beforehand anyway, and I was just postponing the fact that I would have to get an other pair of black heels for work that I would in no time beat up and wear out. I’m not sure how I do it. Maybe I walk too hard? Either way, I’m just relieved this didn’t happen to my running shoes. (How the times have changed when sneakers take precedence over heels.)

The morning this happened, I was getting some much needed sleep. The day before, the combination of remaining jet-lag and the measly one hour time change finally caught up to me and I spent all day wanting to take a nap. Oliver, on the other hand, wasn’t satisfied that I at least woke up at 5:45, took him out and fed him before getting back into bed for a few more hours of sleep. No, he wanted to play. And when he realized that wasn’t going to be happening, he took it out on my shoe. And boy, does he look proud.

Sexy and I Know It

 

 

The weather has been fantastic the past few days, and on Monday evening I took Oliver to a nearby park and ran around with him. Literally- we ran in circles over and over again. Once we got home he was, of course, exhausted.

Now that it’s warmer I’ve noticed that Oliver has taken to sprawling out when he sleeps. That night I looked over the edge of my bed to see him sprawled out all over his pillow, and when I called his name, he looked back at me over his shoulder. It was such a diva pose, I cracked up.

Separation Anxiety

 

One thing I noticed early on with Oliver was that he doesn’t deal well with me leaving for extended periods of time. I often receive picture messages of Oliver sitting by the door and waiting when I’ve been away on weekends, and this time, received emails of how Oliver decided that going to the bathroom outside was overrated, even after long, extended walks to prevent any “accidents.” We decided this was his reaction to my decision to leave town for a week on a vacation that was planned months in advance.

I got back from a lovely vacation and was greeted by pee, jumping, and crying. When I sat down on the couch to play with him, he jumped on my back, clawed my hair, and whined. It was quite the reunion. As dramatic as he can be, I’m pretty glad to see him too.

In the Passenger's Seat

 

Oliver is not a fan of riding in the car, despite the fact that every weekend he's in the car with me going somewhere. He doesn't whine so much anymore, but squirms, and looks at me impatiently. It's great thing puppies don't talk because I imagine it would be like toddlers in the backseat, repeating a thousand times, "ARE WE THERE YET?!"

Even so I caught some great shots of him the other day.  It was a warmer day so I had my windows down and since he had been running around a lot before he jumped in, he was still panting a bit. It makes him look like he was actually happy to be in a car.  Delusional, even.

Silence is Golden

 

I start to worry when the house gets silent. If I can’t hear the tags on his collar jingling, a squeaky toy being tortured, or a rawhide being chewed within an inch of its “life,” I start to worry. Too much silence is never a good sign.

Sometimes though, I’m surprised. Sometimes I find Oliver perfectly chilled out, sunbathing by the kitchen doors.

Or sitting, with his perfect pug posture, staring at nothing but the wall.

At Attention

Oliver has a stubborn streak. Often times when I’m calling for him to come down the stairs, to get out of my closet, or to stop licking my legs (I’m not sure why he does that, but I can no longer sit with my feet on the ground without running into that problem), he’ll look at me defiantly as to say, “Whatcha gonna do about it?”

It’s cute. But annoying.

One thing is for sure though- he knows the sound of the pantry opening and no matter how sneaky I try to be he somehow knows when I’m getting out a treat for him instead of my oatmeal or a k-cup to  make my third cup of coffee of the day.  When the treat comes out is when without a doubt, he will come sit at my feet and wait patiently, at my command.

I gotta tell you, the pup has some seriously good posture.

Losing Balance

Oliver seems to be an all-or-nothing kind of pup. He plays way too hard, eats way too fast, pees all the time, and alternatively, sleeps like a rock. Nothing really wakes this pug up. Out of boredom, I sometimes stare at him and say, “Ollie, Ollie, Ollie, Oliver, Oliver, Ollie,” repeatedly, thinking it’ll wake him up.

Not so much.

He has this pillow next to my bed that he sleeps on and knows it’s all his. If he were normal, he’d sleep on the center of the pillow, but I often find him sleeping so far to the edge it’s only a matter of time or one good stretch before he falls off. Last night was no exception. As I was walking towards my bed, I saw him do a full body stretch, and in slow motion- the kind where you know what’s about to happen but you suddenly have no power to stop it- I see him start to roll…and then suddenly, he looks like this:

I wish I could say that I quickly came and helped him, but I had to stop laughing first. On top of it all, he stayed that way for a good thirty seconds, paw in the air, staring at me. After I got over myself I picked him up, gave him a big kiss on the head, and put him back on the pillow—in the center.

Oliver the Pug

My facebook page is covered with photos of my dog. I hate taking pictures of myself, so quite frankly, without his photos being posted my interaction on facebook would be practically nonexistent.

Recently, I posted a photo of Oliver being his normally cute/psychotic self, when someone posted a comment that said, “Tiffany, I’m sorry, but this dog needs it’s own website.” Whether that was an insult- “stop covering my newsfeed with pictures of your dog,” or a compliment- “this dog is just so cute we need another place to marvel in his existence,” I decided he was right.

So here we are.