It’s hard being a Bunk (Pug)


It’s hard being a Bunk (Pug)

I’m telling ya, it’s harder than you think it is. I have to do so many things, especially as a black baby pug -we get it the worst!. For example, wherever I go female humans go nuts when they see me. Don’t get me wrong, I love the attention, but after a while it begins to make me feel a little violated. Then they want to take pictures of me, which I think is illegal since I’m still a baby pug.


Tonight the humans gave me a shower because they said I smelled like pee. What kind of a comment is that! Of course I smell like pee, what else am I going to roll around in when I’m alone and bored? Well I guess now I am a clean (and well shedding) little pug. However, I really don’t know how I feel about being clean. You see, I’m the kind of pug that likes to leave his mark; when I walk into a room I want every to know that Bunk has arrived, and since everyone is known by their smell, how else will I accomplish this without a nice pungent odor emanating from my fur? It’s funny how pugs are… Besides, the humans are always running after me and trying to put me in my crate. How are they going to know where I am if they can’t smell me. What are they going to do, use their eyes? Like those things ever work!

Another thing that’s hard about being me is the loneliness I feel sometimes…so, for all of my fans out there who have felt the sharp sting of loneliness that I feel whenever I am bereft of my senses in my woebegone crate, this is for you:

Hear that lonesome whippoorwill

He sounds too blue to fly

The midnight train is whining low

I’m so lonesome I could cry

I’ve never seen a night so long

When time goes crawling by

The moon just went behind the clouds

To hide its face and cry

Did you ever see a robin weep

When leaves began to die?

That means he’s lost the will to live

I’m so lonesome I could cry

The silence of a falling star

Lights up a purple sky

And as I wonder where you are

I’m so lonesome I could cry

poor old hank

Yeah, I think me and Hank have a lot in common. Poor old Hank

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