I have already mentioned how I wish life had a pause button in a previous post on the Forge. This is a sentiment that became more poignant recently as our little Pug, Oghren, turned four the other day and all I wanted to do in response to this realisation was to grab a hold of Father Time and keep kicking him square in the bollocks (testicles for my non British audience) until he realised that I don’t want him to age my hound any further. Do you hear me you relentless old git! Stop aging my dog you beard twiddling, death peddling fear monger! Have you considered that some of us don’t like seeing the effects of times passing on creatures we love and adore……….…you prick!
Apologies to those of a sensitive disposition, it’s a troubling matter to have such a beloved creature slowly mature as time continues forth on its ceaseless trajectory to its inevitable conclusion.
Anyway, every time this particular milestone comes around it leads me down a path of memories that has me reminiscing of the fleeting and ‘oh so quickly did they come and go’ days of his puppyhood. Bold of heart and riddled with ecstatic energy was our tiny Pug as he would gallop around looking for various things to nibble on in his jubilantly playful manner. Toys, puppy friendly chew things, his own arse if he could reach it (quite the impossibility now), the odd finger or toe when the opportunity presented itself. Nothing was really out of bounds for the froth laden foolishness of the explorative tongue led treks of our curious little Pog (he’s a Pug named Oghren, so we call him Pog).
I think my most treasured memories of this time in his early life were that he wasn’t quite big enough to jump up to us on the sofa yet. Try as he might he just was not able to scale the sofa mountain to get to the peak of warm and snuggly lap comforts and the fingers of frivolity and plentiful fuss. He would need us to ‘assist’ him and he would bellow a little cry if he could not get our attention. It’s no problem for him now as he just freely gallivants about and plops his chunky butt down wherever he damn well pleases, but I do miss these days a little when he was a touch more reliant upon us to achieve these heights of domestic dog bliss.
He was clumsier too, adorably so. Most puppies are daft enough (life hasn’t taught them to respect gravity yet) and when given the freedom to move around and explore, they will often get themselves stuck or will have succumbed to the harshness of ‘the tumble’ in their ill-advised attempts to find out why something is somewhere or what something that they have never tasted before tastes like.
Floor! It tastes like dirt, dust and floor you inquisitive little bugger!
Oghren was certainly no different. He once rolled off of the bottom of our staircase when descending the two steps he actually managed to climb up. He was completely fine but I couldn’t stop giggling at the thought of him rolling into the front door as his momentum would not relent. Needless to say his many exploits and the results to come after would usually leave him perplexed. To this day he can only ascend stairs; never again will he go down them.
When playing with me and the extravaganza that is ‘daddy hands’ he used to do little back flips and somersaults. Cute as fuck! It’s also an image that can be a struggle to wrap your mind around as Pugs are notoriously rotund. Such acts of careless whimsy are now beyond him, sadly, thanks to his body adapting to the usual levels of Pug girth that comes with dogulthood (that’s a word now).
No doubt I will be thinking the same again next year and the year after. He’s still a rambunctious little numpty but he does have a lot more of his sleepy time these days. Oh, the life of a modern Pug.
Please take care of yourselves and cherish your hound’s folks for they grow up far too quickly for my liking. And if you see that time wielding tit that is Father Time, you know what to do. Right in the nut sack!!
Forged From Reverie.