Wednesday, July 11, 2007

Certifiably Crazy

…is what we are for having the audacity to take our 4 month old on a 5 1/2 hour plane flight to Hawaii. At least according to conventional wisdom.


But you know… screw it. I'm tired of hiding from public view so as to not (gasp!) interrupt some first class snob's cat nap for the 5 minutes it takes Paisley to gurgle and burp herself to sleep.


Here's a quarter, invest in some foam ear plugs.


Am I being selfish?


I say no. Since this trip really isn't for me. I think baby's first vacation is way over due. She seemed to develop a travel bug around month 2 and hasn't ceased in her pleas for a family trip.


Apparently she wants to swim with the turtles.


Furthermore, its not like this will be her first foray into air travel. With 2 successful trips between Austin and SoCal and one trip to Kansas City, she's well on her way to earning her wings. Hopefully we'll once again avoid hitting her self-destruct button…though we'll bring the baby Benadryl just in case.

Tuesday, July 10, 2007

Thine Poo Floweth Freely

It’s not hard to describe all the funny/happy/surprising events one enjoys as a father. One simply needs to act the journalist, happily reporting on the day's events:


My kid is so advanced…

My kid is so cute…

My kid is so funny…

My kid is (add adjective here)


The complications arise when describing those “other” interesting parental experiences. The ones that every parent suffers through but are, for the most part, kept safely hidden from public consumption lest we scare off other would-be breeders from the joys of parenthood.


Fore example, how does one describe a catastrophic baby poo incident without devolving into snickering juvenile potty humor?


My solution came unexpectedly one day while Melissa rummaged through her old high school letters and school work. Out came an inspired and hilarious limerick she wrote in her 12th grade creative writing class about - get this - Richard Nixon! Incidentally it had nothing to do with Nixon as a President, his public persona… or really anything remotely distinguishing any part of life. It WAS however a brilliant snapshot of Melissa's 18 year old brain and a reminder that you can flower up any type of subject matter for poetic purposes.


But what form should my pooriffic poem take?


Haiku? Free form? Sonnet?!


Of course! A Shakespearean Sonnet! I'll just call upon my old friend iambic pentameter to bail me out (once again):


Bursting t'words heavens blue; bisque streams exhumed

So spew-ith ye bum in lupine relief.

Calamitous fallout! White chair consumed

Bewildered clutch I bleach pen and kerchief.


But after the first quatrain I began to question my sanity.

Sunday, April 15, 2007

My Baby Is Smarter Than Your Honor Student

Sure, every parent considers their child to be advanced, but seriously folks, Paisley is operating at a whole ‘nother level.

Like just yesterday she rolled over onto her back from her tummy with nary a nudge from her daddy.

What’s that you say? Big deal?

Well did you know that babies aren’t even supposed to do that until they’re like 4 months old?

Still not impressed? Well after she rolled over, she sat up and asked her mom for her boob.

And I’m not talking about whining and grunting which most babies are reduced to these days.

Seriously, she pointed her stubby little finger at Melissa’s rack and demanded: “Mom! Boob!"

Yea, it totally caught us off guard because up until that point, Paisley only communicated with us and Moby telepathically.

Ha ha, I know; its quite a thing to watch your daughter debate tax policy with your pug while she's calibrating your home theater system.


Click for the new set of pics!

Saturday, April 14, 2007

Bad Influence

C'mon Melissa... ALREADY!?
Can't we start her off with something a bit tamer? Like Big Lots or the 99 cents store?

Friday, April 13, 2007

The Obligatory Texas Wildflower Picture

One beautiful spring day during my second year as a University of Texas undergrad, a strange sight caught the corner of my eye as I barreled down IH35. Off to the right side of the road, a young couple stood motionless, staring at the grass covered hill running parallel along the highway. Their car seemed fine, they didn’t seem distressed. They just stood there, staring at the ground and pointing.

“More Texas weirdos” I mumbled to myself as I drove by…

Then a few days later, another young couple - also staring at the ground, this time with a a camera; no car wreck, smoking hood, or flat tire in site.

Luckily, this time around my travel companion happened to be a native Austinite who educated me on the Central Texas tradition of taking pictures of your new baby surrounded by Bluebonnets during the 6 to 8 week-long springtime wildflower season.

Great idea I thought, but on the side of the freeway??

Sure, the highways are gloriously abundant with swaths of blue, pink and yellow Texas wildflowers – thanks in part to the Ladybird Johnson-inspired Texas Department of Transportation’s wildflower planting program, but certainly there are safer photo-worthy locations to be found in Austin!

Luckily I found such a place. So in my unrelenting attempt to play the part of the consummate texas wannabe, here are Paisley's safely-taken-out-of-harm's-way Texas wildflower pictures:

(click for more!)

Wednesday, March 28, 2007

Here they are...

It's a strange thing when the theme of the vast majority of all the phone calls you now have with your family focus predominantly on 1) when you're going to post new pictures of the baby on the blog and 2) why you've been such a slacker with posting new pictures of the baby on your blog.

What happened to the good-ole standby questions:

1. The weather looks like it sucks in Texas. Is it humid?
2. The weather looks like it sucks in Texas. Is it raining?
3. The weather looks like it sucks in Texas. Is it hot?
4. When are you coming to California?
5. When are you moving back to California?
6. Tell me again why you are living in Texas?
7. C'mon... Texas? Really??

So now that I've posted new pictures of the baby (see below) here are my answers to the other inquiries for the month of March.

1. Yes
2. Yes
3. Yes
4. July, maybe May
5. Don't know
6. Good margaritas, no state income tax and 2000 sq. ft houses for less than 700k
7. Yee Haw!


(click each to see the whole set)

Paisley at 2 weeks:

























Paisley at 3 weeks:

























Paisley at 1 month:

Sunday, March 11, 2007

The Truth: Finally Revealed

"Where did all that hair come from?"

Is what everyone seems preoccupied with.

Are these inquiring minds challenging my paternity rights?

The very farthest, darkest reaches of my mind are challenged by these questions.

Certainly a Dannielynn Hope Marshall Stern-esque paternity fiasco could never transcend the pop culture barrier into MY family life...?

And then suddenly, a picture arrives in my inbox - sent to me by a concerned but anonymous "interested party."

So I ask you fair reader... you be the judge!

Exhibit A:


Exhibit B:



Melissa has alot of explaining to do...

Monday, February 26, 2007

Parenting Lesson #1 - Babies Are Not Pugs

After six days as a father, I like to think of myself as having remarkable acumen in baby matters.

So after extensive research on the matter - and understand, I'm still working on this hypothesis - I've discovered that unlike agitated or unruly dogs, you can't just give your daughter a treat to shut her up...it seems babies require a bit more subtlety and patience with their care.

It was at about 2:38 AM a few nights ago, while sweet little Paisley Grace screamed baby curse words at me, when the futility of my child care philosophy exploded in a fury of tears, screaming and poop.

Previously, the basis of my baby care understanding was:

1. If baby is crying, then baby must want a treat (aka 'boob')
Therefore, wake wife and give baby a treat.

2. If a treat doesn't work, then wrap baby up like a burrito.

3. If burritofied baby continues to cry, then emit white noise from mouth in baby's ear .

4. If shushed, baby-burrito still cries then stuff pacifier in baby's mouth.

Unfortunately, I never considered what would happen if, after reaching item 4, baby continued to cry.

It seems this parenting thing is going to be slightly more complicated than previously thought. I wonder what Harvey Karp would do...?

And now for some more pictures (click on either to see whole set)






...and some boring home videos that only an in-law would love:






Friday, February 23, 2007

Family Nap

The Abdine power structure in a nutshell.

Monday, February 19, 2007

Introducing...

I’m happy to introduce you to the new member of our family; Baby “P,” AKA Paisley Grace Abdine.

She was born 6 pounds 8 ounces, 20.5 inches at 12:12pm on Monday, February 19.

Momma and baby are doing great. Both healthy and happy.

Daddy on the other hand? Oh heck, what can I complain about… all I had to do was tell her to push and hand her the cell phone.

(click on the pictures below to jump to the full collection.)


Labor And Text Messeging

I think Melissa would be a good subject for Cingular’s next ad campaign:

“The new Motorola V3i Razor is so easy to use, even a woman in labor can use it.”

My terminator of a wife was actually text messaging her friends while in the final stage of labor.

Alan: “Breath and two and three and four…”
Melissa: click clack click click [send]
Alan: “Ok, baby, here comes your next contraction… Breath and two and three…"

I guess the epidural worked.

Unauthorized Photography

After witnessing first hand the epidural needle in all its horrific glory, I decided it would be cool to record it for future demonstrative purposes… you know, when the inevitable cocktail-party conversation springs up describing, in detail, the process of jamming a 3 inch, 18 gauge spike into one's spine during childbirth.

Unfortunately, the anesthesiologist about to do the jamming didn’t share my enthusiasm and immediately vetoed the idea as soon as I pulled out the camera. Sheesh… So sensitive these doctor types.

Better Picture

I landed in some hot water after posting that last picture of Melissa, so here’s a better one taken a few days ago by our good friend Dore…

Momma-to-be

Here's momma-to-be just before the epidural. Such a trooper! Cool pillow eh? ;-)


Timing

Perfect timing “P.” Why did you pick that special hour, right before mom and dad retire for the evening to make yourself heard?

I mean really… MIDNIGHT?! Just as dad was walking up the stairs to grab some shuteye...mom barely asleep for an hour?

It’s 7:45 am and we’ve been at the hospital since 2. According to the nurses, things are progressing… visually reinforced every 5 minutes by the wince of displeasure on Melissa’s face.

She’s a rock star though… no meds…no verbal abuse. Just sugar-free jolly ranchers, ice chips and cinnamon-flavored lip gloss applications every 45 minutes.

ETA... Sometime Monday, Feb. 19th?

It's 1:10AM Monday morning and it appears Melissa's labor has begun. contractions 15 minutes apart, about 45 seconds in duration, the last one earning a wince of pain. Water has broke? appears to be a trickle and she insists she hasn't peed herself! Looks like this will be our first (of many) sleepless nights.

Will try to continue posting when possible...

I hope the hospital vending machine sells redbull.

Tuesday, February 13, 2007

T-Plus 7...8...9...10

Yo P! Why you playin' us like that?

Please come soon baby girl. Your mom's nesting instincts have accelerated into overdrive and she's run out of things to primp...

She's grasping at straws. Just today, she reorganized our medicine drawer... i'm worried my desk is next. How can I possibly get any work done if all my paperwork is methodically categorized??

What's it going to take to convince you to come out? Primrose capsules? Castor Oil? Eggplant parmigiana?

Saturday, February 03, 2007

Everyone Has A Theory

...about when the baby will be born...or what the "P" stand for (no its not "Penelope!"). But so far, y'all have been wrong ('cept Summer L...good guess!).

Despite everyone's assurance that "Baby P" will be here by the weekend, as of Saturday morning, we are still on red alert, though I think I'll lower it to code "yellow" as soon as I get approval from Homeland Security.

So "P," are you going to ruin my superbowl plans...?

Tuesday, January 30, 2007

T-Minus 10..9..8..7..

It appears that "Baby P" might make her grand entry a bit sooner than expected...like imminently. The official due date is February 20th - which we were hoping would be an early estimate. But as per the most recent OB/GYN visit on Monday (2cm dilated, 70% effaced), our Superbowl and Valentines Day plans may have to be adjusted just a bit.

And Melissa thought she would be teaching till February 16th! HA!

So now we are on "red alert." Which means I have to:
  1. install the car seat
  2. test the car seat
  3. unpack and setup strollers
  4. pack hospital bags
  5. purchase video camera and learn proper operation
  6. research and sign up for "cord blood banking"
  7. coordinate dog care while we are gone
  8. cram about a weeks worth of work into the next two days
  9. control anxiety and stress so I can be the "level-headed one"
  10. Sleep?
Before Monday's doctor visit, i assumed that 3 weeks would be ample time for me to satisfy all our pre-baby responsibilities but now it appears item 10 on the list is no longer an option.

So stay tuned for more info...

My intention is to blog as much as I can during the pre/intra/and post labor experience - I'll even post some pictures and maybe some video of "P" as well so this should be the first and best place to come to stay up to date.


Friday, January 26, 2007

Paparazzi

Thanks to Summer L. for tipping us off to the paparazzi hiding in our bushes. No respect for ones privacy... its sickening really.


Wednesday, January 24, 2007

Inequity

I’m well aware of the inequity of the situation.

Melissa is hard at work, 24 hours a day, creating new life

…constantly adjusting her schedule and social calendar to ensure the safety and health of baby Abdine.

…stoically denying her sushi, medium-rare Filet Mignon and Margarita cravings because someone, somewhere wrote in some publication that those were bad things for pregnant women to consume.

And me? It’s my job to remind her of her breathing patterns during labor!

Yikes, I better find more stuff to do.

Like…blog some new "4D" Ultrasound pics that have been sitting idol in my camera since mid-December?... (man, i'm such the slacker!)


Friday, December 22, 2006

Enough Already, I Get It!

One of the recurring themes of the past 8 months of Melissa’s pregnancy is all of the dire warnings of fatherhood from friends and family.

“Getting a good night’s sleep Alan?
Well enjoy it now because you won’t get any sleep after the baby is born!”

“Like to go out to the movies Alan?
Well, enjoy them now because the only popcorn you’ll soon be eating is Pop Secret in front of your own television while watching Bob The Builder.”

“Like to go out for fancy dinners Alan?
Well, enjoy those fillets now because the only steak you’ll soon be eating is the Salisbury variety.

Perhaps they tell me these things as a friendly gesture (or sardonic jab?), to prepare me for the inevitable life changes that are fast approaching.

But frankly, it sounds like my first two years as a father will be roughly equivalent to Martha Stewart’s stay in Federal Prison.

Certainly there’s no avoiding the inevitable changes that will overtake our lives on or around February 20th, 2007, but can I not enjoy my last couple of months in a state of ignorant bliss?

Baby Mozart

Should I be concerned that my unborn baby daughter likes to Rock out to Michael Jackson?

Melissa shared this new insight into our child’s music preference while driving to the mall a few weeks ago. It seems that the iconic MJ tune, "Billy Jean" was playing on the local “Old School” pop station when suddenly, Baby Abdine started moon walking all over Melissa’s bladder.

Am I becoming a square because I’m worried that my daughter is listening to songs about a dead beat dad’s inability to take responsibility for his children? Surely Brittany Spears can feel my pain.

But all things considered, I guess it could be worse, Baby A could have chosen Kelis’ "Milkshake" or the soon-to-be classic Black Eyed Peas diddy "My Humps" as her theme song, especially since those songs seem to fit momma-Melissa’s plight a bit better.

Personally, I would think a song like Nelly's "Hot In Herre" would be a more representative fit, but what do I know about music... I still think Weird Al Yankovich is funny.

Thursday, October 19, 2006

My Dog The...

bum
clock watcher
couch potato
deadbeat
idler
laggard
layabout
lazybones
loafer
lotus eater
lounger
malingerer
moocher
shirker
slacker
sloth
sponge

This is what some pugs do in their spare time:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zcKOQrz19Yg

And this is what my dog does:

Damn you internet!

I should be working... but instead i punish my little digital friend...mercilessly propelling him into 1, 2, 3.... 4 more ice walls? Who are you running from little digital friend? The ghosts of your childhood? The Korean mafia? Or do you just want to kick some ice wall ass?

Yessssss!

Wednesday, October 11, 2006

Helpful numbers to keep handy

These "physician" ads were sent to me by my mother who is currently working with the Peace Corps in South Africa.

Honestly, I'm kind of embarrassed even posting these. It's just another example of our medical community's inferiority compared to its foreign counterparts.

I guess its time to start planning my S. Africa trip...

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

This Just In...

"Yoga Baby" is no longer an it but a HER!

Bets have been lost (i owe Miss a prenatal massage at the spa of her choosing)...
Faux psychics have been exposed (sorry dad, sis & bro)...
And soon-to-be mommy and daddy have big smiles on their faces!

Here's a close-up of her profile... taking a nap?


Wednesday, September 27, 2006

Yoga Baby

My unborn child is doing yoga poses in the womb. But should I be surprised? Melissa has already burned through at least 5 prenatal yoga DVDs. Thank God for Netflix.

(umm, oh and by the way, for those of you who have not been previously clued in to the news, there will soon be a mini-(half)me running around)

Melissa is 19 weeks pregnant and while we theoretically should be able to determine the sex, for whatever reason, our OB/GYN does not schedule the “anatomical” ultrasound until the 21st week.

This, of course, is unacceptable to us.

My self-diagnosed, adult-onset ADHD coupled with Melissa’s genetic inability to wait for a surprise (she secretly read my travel diary while I was asleep on a train enroute to the Cinque Terra region of Italy for the sole purpose of discovering whether or not I was going to propose to her. For the record, I was, and yes, she found out) made us incapable of waiting until the scheduled visit.


Furthermore, we were going to Santa Barbara for a family wedding which gave us all the rationalization we needed to spend the extra $$ for a redundant sex determination ultra. Certainly there wouldn’t be better uses for the money once the baby was born…?

We made an appointment at one of the ubiquitous “4D ultrasound” specialty shops that seem to be popping up everywhere. I’m not sure I understand the technology completely, but according to their marketing literature, the “4D ultrasound” is 2 times better than the regular 2D fan shaped ultras that you normally see! (or so you’d think)

The machine apparently generates a three dimensional shape from a regular ultrasound image to create a creepy computerized approximation of what the baby might actually look like. I’m not sure what the 4th “D” refers to, but I imagine it’s an estimation of the # of sleepless nights per week you’ll have stressing out about the radical shift your life will take now that you’ve been forced to deal with the very real impending reality of fatherhood.

Unfortunately for us (or maybe a blessing??) the Sonographer was unwilling to show us the ultrasound in all its 4D glory due to the baby being only 19 weeks developed.

According to her, 4D ultras before 21 weeks can sometimes be disturbing due to the tendency for the baby to appear more like an emaciated, heroin junkie alien versus anything remotely humanoid.

3 more weeks doesn’t sound unreasonable now that I think of it.

It didn’t really matter anyway, because our main purpose for going was to find out the gender. The standard 2D view should work just fine.

…but that wasn’t going to work out in our favor either.

Sonographer: “Well I have some bad news.”
Abdines: “Oh no, we knew it… the baby has Alan’s ears.”
Sonographer: “Not quite…although the ears do look somewhat monkey-like. Rather, the problem we have is the baby has its legs crossed and is sitting on its rump. Unless it moves, it’s going to be difficult if not impossible to determine the sex today.”

Sure enough, baby Abdine was sitting in a relaxed, meditative Lotus position; perfectly positioned to completely cover any protruding vestiges…or lack thereof. And of course, every body part was moving; head, back, arms, fingers, mouth… every body part EXCEPT for the legs.

No luck today. The baby must still be referred to in gender neutral terms.

But wait! What’s that?? Baby Abdine just thrust (his?) hand down in between (his?) legs! Is (he?) scratching (his?) crotch??

My money is now on the table. 5-2 odds it’s a boy.

Tuesday, August 22, 2006

A Smite-Worthy Good Time

Ok kids, pop quiz time:

What’s funnier?

A) An obscure reference to the last scene of the movie “The 40 Year Old Virgin” to begin your good friend’s wedding ceremony.

B) The Universal Life Church and their online application for ministry.

Answer: Either A or B or both or none of the above since all answers on the ULC grading curve lead to a perfect score.

Flashback to early winter 2006: I’m enjoying a sociable evening with my newly engaged friends Kevin and Barb, picking at a Ceasar Salad at the Yardhouse at the Irvine Rectum Spectrum when they drop the bomb:

“Hey Alan, we were wondering if you’d do us a favor for the wedding.”

“Sure,” I said

“Ok, well it’s going to take a little work on your end.”

“Umm, ok. And what is it you want me to do?”

“Well we were wondering if you’d be interested in marrying us.”

My first reaction was of utter bewilderment. I wasn’t even sure I was holy enough to BE married let alone marry someone else. Would God disapprove of me playing the poser minister? Isn’t this type of behavior smite-worth? Hmm, a smiting would certainly not figure in well for my summer plans…

But after a conversation with a real reverend, Melissa and a fair amount of prayer, my theology was straightened out just enough for me to seriously consider the offer.

The problem still remained though; on what authority could I legally marry them in the state of California?

Oh! Wait a minute… Problem solved! The Universal Life Church!

The Universal Life Church is a nonsense organization that claims to be a church but has no underlying core set of beliefs. They are one of those “one size fits all” churches that preach that all beliefs are legitimate… as long as you really believe your made-up beliefs.

The main reason this “church” exists is because it’s the path of least resistance for one to become legally authorized to perform a marriage ceremony in (most of) the US.

At first, I didn’t know much about the ULC or their online ordination process. Would I need a credit card? Would I have to renounce my current faith or subscribe to some new religious code? Would I still be able to benefit from the world of psychiatry?

After 2 minutes of research this is what I found:

  1. The answers to the questions above were no, no, no and yes (and probably end up needing it more than ever).
  2. What you DO need is an email address….and THAT’S IT.
  3. A printer would help too… so you can print out your official-looking certificate of ministry.

Not to sound glib, but…

After two additional minutes of research, I realized just what a monumental pile of ridiculousness the ULC actually is. Well maybe not as ridiculous as Scientology, but still, staring at a broken piece of pencil lead would have been a better way to spend the 30 seconds it took me to sign up for this meaningless “religious” designation.

Let me get this straight… California requires one to be a judge, boat captain or minister to conduct a wedding ceremony within its borders, yet its “minister” designation is so hollow that it allows for a minister of church who’s only belief (and corresponding motto) is “To Do That Which Is Right” to legally marry a couple within its borders?

To Do That Which Is Right?! What does that even mean? Apparantly not a whole lot since pretty much anything you dream up can be considered “right” as long as you properly rationalize it’s rightness… at least for your own benefit. (paging Ayn Rand)

Listen up everyone, after sticking his head in a hat he fashioned out of old Happy Meal bags, THE reverend Alan Abdine received a new revelation: In order “To Do That Which Is Right,” on October 3rd, 2008, at 3:43AM (CST) you must pray to his dog Moby who, while wearing a pink tutu, will temporarily assumes the reincarnated state of the 45th Buddha for approximately 17 and 5/8 minutes.

With the ULC church absurdity behind me, it was time to focus on something actually meaningful… namely, my friends’ wedding:

{Alan faces Kevin and Barb and begins the ceremony}

"Are you ready?

Ok, before we get started, I want you to take a quick look around at everyone gathered here today.”

{Alan points to the guests}

“Kevin & Barb, there are a lot of friends and family here that really care about you.”

{Alan addresses the guests}

“But y’know what everyone? Sometimes it’s not enough to JUST show up… so I thought we could all get out of our chairs and express our true feelings for Kevin and barb through interpretive dance."


Oh, I almost forgot the plug…

Since I submitted my application for the ULC ministry this year, I get the new-for-2006 feature of the power to forgive sins! So if you’re throwing a bachelor party or just want a guilt-free night on the town, email me now for my fall 2006 rental rates!

Monday, May 01, 2006

Pug Spotlight: Moby

As if my dog needed any more publicity... he's currently gracing the "Pug Spotlight" page at austinpugs.com
"Whattup Dawgs! I'm Moby, AKA "The Mobinator" AKA "Pooey Jr."

People often ask me: "Where ever did you get that crazy name? Are your parents obsessed with 19th century American Literature or something?" That always makes me chuckle. Literature? MY Parents?! Ha! Heaven's no! Unless you call People Magazine or drudgereport.com literature! In fact, I'm not even sure my dad can read! Actually, my folks named me after that smooth-headed, cultural and musical icon; Moby (who IS in fact actually related to Herman Melville!) Apparently, they were really into the album "Play" when I came home from the puppy farm, so with all the creative effort they could muster…Well, I guess it could be worse. At least my name isn't Radiohead.

So Here I am in Austin. Cool place to be in my opinion, as long as it's not summer. I can't stand the summers here. You can't blame me though, I was born and raised in Southern California. I can still remember chasing the sea gulls and splashing in the cool Pacific Ocean. When my folks told me we were moving to Austin, I thought they were crazy! But once I got here, it all made sense. Sure, the weather pretty much sucks in the summer, but oh man, the music here rocks! And I really can't complain about all my new buddies in the pug club. (Big shout out to Jasmine, Chom Chom, Buda, Milo, Sofi and Murphi! WHAT WHAT!)

So I've been ripping on my parents, but I should really cut them some slack. Despite their inherent dorkiness, they try their best. Plus, they let me chill all day on the couch (thus my nickname "lazy") and if that wasn't cool enough, they put a down comforter in my crate! Woo Hoo! Now if I can only get them to switch out my crappy dry food for something halfway tasty… (note to self: try sad, begging puppy routine)

I'm really a cool guy once you get to know me. Yea, I'm a bit spastic when I first meet you, and I definitely suffer from a moderate case of Pug ADD, but if you can get my attention, you will earn a friend for life.

Next time at the Pug Meetup, come and say hi. I'll be over by the golden retrievers racing after them into the creek.

submitted for Moby by Alan"