Bruschi's letter to Santa- 2006

This evening, while re-organizing some files on my laptop, I came across Bruschi's letter to Santa that he/I wrote in 2006, his first Christmas. It had our friends and family in absolute laughter, and I thought I should post it on this blog.



It reminds me of just how, um, lets just a say "eventful" puppyhood was for us.



The 2007 letter is just as good, but that will come later this month.





Dear Santa,

I want pizzles. That is all I want for Christmas. I don’t want bandanas, or red socks, or pens that I can chew, or purses, shoes, coats, gloves, glasses, leashes, tissues, rugs, toe nail clippers, or ear washes. Just pizzles. This crazy lady who makes me do tricks told me that if I want something, I have to be good and ask some Santa for it.

I know, I have not been a good boy this year, but I am cute. And, cuteness should count for something. After all, the mischief that I caused gave the crazy man and lady LOTS to tell their friends about, and the stories are entertaining. I hear they get lots of mileage out of that diamond-earring-in-the-digestive-track story. Not my fault that it ended up in my mouth when I was cleaning the crazy lady’s ears. Those ears needed a cleaning! No one appreciated it when I learned to jump over the curiously shaped wall that kept me out of upstairs. They just didn’t understand how much I wanted to get into doggie paradise. I know people think that all those holes in the ground that I dug so carefully are a bad thing, but this will save those people time when they want to plant flowers. And, I guess you could say I really wasn’t supposed to uproot those hydrangea saplings. It just looked like fun at the time.

Oh, and there are some good things that I have done this year. Like, on Thanksgiving, I watched the “gobble gobble” to make sure no one would steal it. I also have alarm clock duties. Every morning, I gotta howl and whine to wake up those sleepyheads. No snooze button on me!! And, every night, before retiring to my box, I give lots of kisses. I also help the big man take naps. He does not snore when I sleep on him. Oh, one other thing, when the crazy lady needs to be entertained, I help with that. I let her play “roll the Puggle” around on the floor. She’s trying to train me not to steal food or possessions—I hear “good boy” a lot, so I guess I am making progress.

So, pizzles all for me. I really like them. And, they keep me out of trouble. In fact, I am willing to barter an evening of schenanigans for one pizzle. You can get them on the Internet… they are called PIZZLES. I hear they are made from bull weenies, but taste goooood to me!

Love, Bruschi (love you even more if you get me pizzles)

P.S.- We’ve never met before, so when you come down the chimney, look for the cute puppy with wrinkles and floppy ears. See picture below.

P.S.P.S. I look sad I this picture because I have no pizzles.









Bruschi at 8 or 9 months old. He was pretty tubby then, until we got him on a better diet.

Today, Brian and I celebrated our 3rd anniversary. Three years and one day ago today, we both first learned of the Puggle. Now, Bruschi is camped out on my lap, while Kodi is sleeping in sync on Brian's.

I always intended to have a dog, and Brian proudly proclaimed that "Learch men are dog people." The bigger question for us was which breed. I love Labs and Beagles. Brian wanted a Pug. We both have deep feelings for Corgi's but were intimidated by shedding. Undecided, Brian staved off my relentless demands for a puppy-- promising we would revisit after the honeymoon.

The day before we got married, we were in separate states, both watching the Today Show featuring Puggles. Like many Americans, we fell in love, and our next phone call wasn't about floral mishaps, missing pianists, disappearing aisle runners, or bad manicures... it was how we just saw the cutest dog that would be the perfect addition to our lives. The Puggle was to be our wedding gift.

I thought of this today when I got an email from the rescue we volunteer with, letting volunteers know that a hound mama and her 7 little four week old pups were found alone in the woods of Virginia.

Three years ago, we didn't consider a rescue pup, largely, because we didn't have the faintest idea that such a thing as rescue puppies existed. We thought that only older dogs were abandoned, and we really wanted a puppy. In our minds-- who on earth abandons a mama dog with little ones? Well, three years later, we learned this happens as frequently as Bruschi steals food off our plate.

If you couldn't tell by now, we love our breeder-bred designer dog from nose to tail, and have no regrets about how we came to have him in our lives. We just didn't know what we do now about rescue. And perhaps, it was Bruschi who brought us to be exposed to others with rescue dogs.

Brian and I still say things like "what human abandons a dog?," but now we know just how much of a reality it is. And, having seen some of those pups grow, we know just how special a rescue puppy is, just how much joy they bring, and just how wonderful a life they can lead.

I did pause for more than a minute to think about bringing the litter home to foster, as an anniversary present for Brian, but then figured I'd save Husband of the Year material until our five year :)