I have been told that little boys worship their mommies. Being a mother of two little girls who idolize their father, I have yearned for a son of my own who will call for me when he scraps his knee or when his toy truck gets stuck in second gear.
However, my husband assured me that our baby making years were past us.
We found a compromise when he brought home a male puggle that we affectionately called, Edgar Allan Puggle, EAP for short.
We all fell in love with our newest family member.
We cared for him as if he was our baby by swaddling him in blankets, taking him for a ride in the stroller and holding him close whenever the thunder hit too close to home.
A puggle is a hybrid breed that is made when a male bug and a female beagle breed.
They snort like a pug and they wander like a beagle.
Therefore, we should not have been surprised to discover that Edgar Allan Puggle had an overwhelming interest in escaping our home for unknown destinations like his great grandfather, Snoopy.
Keeping him home had become quite a challenge in and of itself.
There were daily escapes and the understanding amongst adults was that whoever was closet to the front door when the dog got out was the person responsible for retrieving him.
Unfortunately for me, most of the time I was the one closest to the door.
Interestingly, my doctor had recently told me that I needed to exercise more by taking a daily walk or joining a local gym.
It seemed that EAP was of this same belief, but instead of taking a leisurly stroll he wanted to see me take a frantic run all over the streets of Old Town.
One particular evening while my husband was at work and the girls were asleep, I decided to wash my hair and apply a facial firming mask that when applied to my face froze my facial muscles making it difficult to speak or show any kind of emotion.
Visually speaking, it was one of those physical states that a woman does not want to be in when “The Big One” hits.
At this time my father opened the front door and the dog was off as if he were attempting the part of an all-star greyhound chasing the imaginary rabbit.
My dad informed me that the dog had left to find greener pastures and I quickly made my way down the stairs towards the door.
I was mortified at the thought of being seen by my neighbors in my current physical state when I suddenly found myself standing in a pile of poo, one that Edgar Allan puggle had left behind perhaps with the hopes of slowing me down.
But as the wife of a trained ninja, I removed my left shoe and followed after the mischievous mutt. I limped towards Main Street calling out to the dog and found that my speech was limited because of the firming mask that I had just applied and slow because I was missing one shoe.
A group of 20-something’s crossed my path and one of the young women actually screamed when she saw my face, not that I blame her … it’s not everyday that you see a crazy housewife running in your direction after a dog while wearing one shoe and a white, firming, facial mask.
Maybe if my appearance had not been so ridiculous they might have actually helped me. But no such luck on this particular evening.
I was a lone lady on a mission to bring back my fur baby.
Thankfully, 10 minutes into my importune run and very sweet Seal Beach resident was able to grab the dog by his collar and place him back into my arms.
There have been many more of these incidents.
Before going to work on another day, my husband ran after EAP in full police uniform in the pouring rain.
He ran as fast as his heavy garb would allow him and I followed closely behind, begging the dog to slow down.
Finally, Phil cornered him on 8th Street and Central Avenue, but when he bent down to grab him he found himself on his back like a belly up turtle. I took that moment to announce the score: EAP: 1 Phil: 0
Another time, a driver stopped to give me some advice while in puggle pursuit.
She told me that I needed to get down on all fours and act like a dog.
This would be less intimidating for EAP and he would come to me on his own.
I considered her advice, but politely declined when I had flashbacks of chasing him towards Main Street with one shoe, wet hair and sporting the ghost face from the movie “Scream.”
Edgar Allan Puggle’s interests in exploring Old Town are undoubtedly still present, but we have made several changes in our household.
First, we purchased a baby gate that we use to stop him from getting to the front door.
Secondly, we remember to always look over our shoulder when leaving the house … just incase EAP decides to perform a circus trick by jumping the baby gate.
Finally, we hired a dog trainer and she is teaching us how to show this puggle who is boss.
As for me, I have learned to only apply a facial mask when my husband is home and/or the dog is asleep.
