Mugsy’s Pug Life

Mugsy the Pug

This is Mugsy, our 13 year old Pug. He used to roam all over the yard, but now that he’s blind and deaf, he won’t even go outside anymore. Some days, it’s not even worth trying to find the piddle pads.
He sleeps 23 hours a day.
He doesn’t care about putting nose art on the car windows anymore.
He’s ok with letting the other dogs get to lick the dinner plates. Unless it’s pizza. Then he’ll find the table because crust is still so worth fighting for.
Laser tag is out of the question.
He has developed some form of telekinesis to find his dinner bowl, and scavenge everyone else’s in case they left something behind. Yukon usually does, and Loki will allow himself to be pushed out of his bowl by anyone, especially the elderly.
This is what’s left of Mugsy’s world.
He used to enjoy camping trips, and was the only dog that wouldn’t run away if someone left the trailer door open. Campfires were the best, especially if he got his own chair. But now the steps are too high, the walks are too short, and the dark is too dark.
The kids don’t walk to school anymore, the fairs and arcades are too confusing and there’s nothing to watch on TV. The telephone no longer rings. People don’t talk. Dogs don’t bark.
Biscuits are too hard to chew. Toys aren’t any fun anymore.
Those other whippersnapper dogs in his house don’t bother with him, and he doesn’t bother with them. He’s been here longer than all of them anyway-a detail that was not lost on Phoenix, who resents it bitterly. He probably thinks Phoenix is a jerk. Sometimes, he is not wrong.
He still appreciates a pet on the head, though. Neck massages aren’t bad, either. Those still make his tail wag and the back leg shake. Once that 12 seconds is over, it’s time to go back to bed, because that was a lot of work.

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