We Have A Pug That's Really A Weenie Dog

Hey guys, Josh here with my inaugural post on the family blog.

So, Lib was getting ready for work last night around 6pm, and I was in our bedroom with Noah, successfully feeding him but unsuccessfully trying to get him down for a nap, when both of us heard a disturbing noise outside. It took us a minute to figure out what the sound was, but the persistent 'mew' soon made it obvious that a cat was sitting inches from our front door.

Let me preface this story by acknowledging that in no way, shape, form, or fashion am I fond of cats. In fact, that's an understatement for those who know me well. I have a few cat jokes I could share, but in a nod to good taste I'll keep them to myself. Libby isn't as extreme in her dislike of cats as I am, but she doesn't really care for them either.

Anyway, the cat was practically yelling at the door for us to let it in, and Libby was trying to figure out how she was going to get out to go to work without the cat slipping in. Forget the fact that we don't like cats, neither one of us wants any intruding member of the animal kingdom scurrying around our house and jumping on our bed/couch/son. Plus, it could be a stray carrying fleas and some gnarly form of eosinophilic granuloma.

We eventually decided the best course of action was to let Einstein chase it away. I looked out the peephole and didn't see the cat, but I decided to take Einstein out on the leash anyway so that if we happened to run into the cat, it would know that there's a sheriff patrolling the area and not to come around again. Sure enough, as soon as we turned the corner, I saw the perpetrator in the flower bed right outside our window. I immediately let Einstein off the leash so he could chase it away.

It took Einstein a minute to see the cat, but he eventually caught the scent and started sniffing his way to its owner. Then he looked up and froze. He had seen the cat.

"Sick 'em Einstein!"

Nothing.

"Go on, Einie. Take no prisoners."

Still nothing.

I looked at the cat to see if it was hissing or had its claws drawn. Nope. I looked back at Einstein, and you know what he's doing? You know what our Lord-Protector, bark at any little sound, "I once tried to pick a fight with a great dane," guard dog is doing? He's SHAKING. And backing up! Backing up from this:

This is too much for me. I've seen some ferocious strays and some pretty mean house cats in my time. But this little kitty???

I called Einstein back to me, and, relieved, he turned around and gladly came. He went to do his business, making sure to keep at least a 30 yard buffer between himself and the cat.

I'm so ashamed.

So, to all the burglars reading this: Feel free to come and have a go at our apartment, because, as you know by now, all that stands between you and all of our stuff is a Weenie Dog trapped in a Pug's body.

Ok, that was a little therapeutic. Thanks for reading my story. Have a good weekend.