Dorito

I promised my son I would get him a dog when he was 10. He is about to start driver's education in a week. I kept waiting for a non-busy year at work and it never came, so finally I quit putting it off. We were supposed to get the dog last February, which is the slow season at work, but that litter only produced one pup. So we ended up getting a dog in the middle of hurricane season, which is perhaps one of the dumber things I've done in my life, and that's really saying something.

This is Dorito as he came home to us from a breeder in Elizabeth:


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Dorito is the name you get when you promise the kids they can name the dog anything they want. I suppose it could have been something like Harry Dragon Swift, so perhaps it isn't so bad.


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Dorito is 100% charisma, 0% intelligence. Fortunately, you don't have to be smart if you are cute enough. He eats everything he passes. Grass, shrubs, rocks, shoes, the couch, baseboards, pinecones and possibly his own poop if you aren't keeping an eye on him.


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Whoever said puppies sleep 20 hours a day forgot to include Dorito on that memo. He takes a nap here and there, but he is up solid throughout the day and always eager to destroy something or get the sweet sweet taste of human flesh. His vet says he is the most active pug she has ever encountered. I don't know if dog ADHD medication exists, but it's on my to-do list to look into. He just runs at 100% and then suddenly collapses like he's been struck with narcolepsy, but then 10 minutes later he is recharged and up again.


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My wife hates dogs and vowed that we would never get one, but I managed to wear her down over the course of 20 years. She insisted on something small and low energy, and both of my neighbors have pugs, so that is the way we went. We had him for about three weeks before I got sent to Georgia and Florida for work. My wife has very strong feelings about this, and I may be stabbed when I get home at the end of the month. But this little chompy, high energy creature has chewed his way into our hearts as well as our baseboards.


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We bought puppy-genius a set of couch stairs after he just straight walked off the couch and seemed genuinely surprised that gravity applied to him. The last thing I need is a $3K vet bill, and there are other signs he isn't going to be competing in the agility dog competition, like when his back legs get ahead of his front legs and he just sort of rolls like a bowling ball into his water bowl. Or the fact that he either can't figure out the leash or he's really into bondage; this dog can hog-tie himself and me just sitting under my office chair.

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Like certain other aspects of my life, I went all the way down to the bottom of the rabbit hole in gearing up for this dog, and bought a crate with fixed hard points for mounting to a helicopter in case we need a rapid evacuation from the LZ. My wife tells me it looks like something they'd transfer Hannibal Lechter in. But while I spent a semester of my kid's college fund for the crate (I hear plumbers make good money and I've been exploring internships for him anyways) I drew the line at $200 for a 'puppy divider' and just used an offcut of some plywood. It is the only thing we have saved any money on for this dog.

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Crate training is the one thing that has gone phenomenally well from day 1. I brought him home in the crate, and I put him in it at about 11:00 at night. When the door is closed, he doesn't wine or fidget even when he knows other people are in the room. My wife's theory is that it's broken his will and he resigns himself to his fate every time I close the door, but I think he likes it in there. He has a plush dog bed outside of his enclosure, but when we do put him in the enclosure to go treat our wounds, he climbs into the crate more than the puppy bed. Which is a good thing, because he camoflages like the Predator in his dog bed, no doubt contemplating the ideal moment when our guard will be down and he can move in for the kill.

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And yes, we will be making the great snip when he reaches 8 months old. I had to give mine up for marriage, and I'll be darned if I am going to let him keep his when he keeps trying to eat my face. They say dogs don't bite the hand that feed them, but Dorito seems to think the hand that feeds him is feeding him the hand. Bite me once, shame on you. Bite me 16 times a day and you lose your nuts.

Dorito has, of course, grown bigger over time. And with the changing of the seasons comes the new fall fashion line. Pugs are like millineals*; they can only be comfortable under a limited range of tightly controlled conditions. Dorito loves to be outside, but at 40 degrees and below, he can only handle it for about 10 minutes in his natural state. So we have become the sort of people who dress our dog in sweaters.

(*millineal here defined as anyone younger than me that I do not like)

This one screams 'approachable' to me, and you can tell how excited he is to be wearing it:
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Fortunately, it does not significantly reduce his ability to eat sticks, bird carcasses, and other dog's poop.
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For colder weather still, he has a little fleece coat. This he actually likes and will voluntarily hold still for me to put it on. He does not care for the dog boots at all, and it's like having a toddler with four feet every time we go for a walk; God alone knows how many shoes we will return with.
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Last up is his tactical urban assault vest. He's still a little on the small side to be carrying my back-up gun, but I'm thinking he's going to be more of a reload and mag retrieval dog anyways. Here we are training with his frenemy, Pizza. He loves to fetch Pizza, but for some reason, he runs behind me and will only drop it at my heel. Dog definitely marches to the beat of his own tiny drum.

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Dorito is not a well-behaved dog and has no future whatsoever as any type of legit service animal; he prefers to inflict trauma over providing any sort of comfort. But I still plan to get him declared as an ADA emotional support animal so I can travel with him for work on their dime; no matter what stresses or intrusive thoughts I might have in my work life, they all disappear completely the moment he sinks his razor sharp teeth into my unsuspecting flesh. Consequently, I have ordered him a patch that says 'Disservice Animal'.

Anyways, I was a bit uncertain about the whole pug breed, but Dorito is a high energy dog with a lot of personality who definitely keeps things interesting, and has been a solid addition to our family, as well as an agent of chaos.

Popcorn has no problem with his name.

She still loves her crate after 7 years. It's her little cave and, other than my lap, she spends the most time there.

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There he is! Fantastic pictures JohnnyEgo! Thanks for sharing and enjoy the ride! It seems you already are!

Very cool. My wife absolutely did not want another dog either. The chocolate lab puppy I bought her, after she told me she didn’t want another dog, just turned 4 and is 85 lbs. He is her dog and will abandon me and the kids in an instant if she is around. My kid, 3 at the time, named him Oliver. I don’t know why he chose that name, but was very insistent the dogs name was Oliver.

Cute dog, thanks for sharing puppy pictures!

Great pictures. Gotta love a pup that cute.

Cute dog. Made me smile. Thanks for sharing.

Dang, he's cute!

But I have a feeling that Dorito is YOUR dog (but you'll share with your boy).

First and foremost, Dorito really does appear to be 100% charisma. He'll grow out of a lot of his antics as he gets older - but not all of them.

It doesn't matter the subject... someone could ask you to write about a plastic bag that blew into your yard and somehow you could write the most entertaining story about it that compels me to read and and instantly hooks me. You've got a unique skill and I always look forward to reading your posts.