The story of the Three Stooges

When Mark and I decided to move to the Midwest (Mark is from Michigan to begin with), I was very hesitant to leave my Vermont.  And all my friends in my Vermont.  Mark found a bargaining tool that was just cute enough to bribe me into moving.  And we named him Barney.  But only because the name that I REALLY wanted to name him, Fred, was taken by our Uncle Dave and Aunt Linda's dog.  I digress.

I'd been looking online at local Minnesota papers, and found a listing for a Pug puppy.  Having never had a Pug puppy and only being able to judge by his utter cuteness, I wanted him.  Mark told me that if we moved to MN, I could have my Pug puppy.  And so that's how, the day after we had driven five days to move from VT to MN, we went to go get Barney.  And OMG was he ever adorable.

No one had told us what an absolute nightmare Pug puppies can be.  For the first four years of Barney's life, he tried everything he could to destroy our house.  He would go outside, supposedly to do his business, and then run back inside, jump on the couch, and poop and pee.  We ended up having to throw away numerous pieces of furniture.  We had to keep a leash on Barney inside the house...just to catch him.  Barney ran so fast that the only chance we had was to stomp on the leash that was trailing behind him.

Fast forward to four years of Barney and moving to WI.  We started fostering Pugs (and other dogs).  We swore, after the nightmare of raising Barney, that we would NEVER have more than one dog.  EVER.  We were fostering one or two Pugs at a time, taking them in from IL for a while and then from a rescue in OK that brought them here to WI.  And I saw this face.




Come on, who could resist this face?  Her AKC registered name is "No Not Now".  They had been calling her Nora.  And when I got my hands on her (under the disguise of ONLY fostering her), she became "Mrs."


Mrs. was 10 when we adopted her.  Thrown out on the streets because she could no longer have puppies.  Yes, the tongue sticks out constantly.  She is both the most mellow Pug you could ever meet, and sometimes the most bitchy.  She does what she wants, just like her human Mama.  Most of the time, what she wants is to sleep.  She's been with us for three years now, making her an older lady at the age of 13.  I can't imagine our lives without her.

So, two years ago, when I was almost recovered from my chemo and cancer and surgery, and we finally had our two Pugs back (our wonderful friends Jen and Annie had taken them for us for a few months because I couldn't be around their jumping)....I was reading online about a local animal shelter in town.  The Neenah Animal Shelter.

The Neenah Animal Shelter had at their facility a white boxer that they had named Picard.  Picard was a gorgeous Boxer mix.  Picard had arrived at the shelter with a tumor the size of a baseball on his back leg.  Picard had cancer.  Picard had failing kidneys.  Picard was also deaf.  And when we saw Picard's photo, Picard became ours.  We renamed him Mister Petey Picard.  Just because, that's supposed to be his name.  Duh.

And thus, our household that was supposed to have only ONE dog, became a household with the Three Stooges.  And although I sincerely doubt that we will ever have this many pooches under our roof again, it's fun, and rewarding, while it lasts.  All three are getting up there in age, and I imagine there will be some sad goodbyes in the near future.  But until then, they will be our Three Stooges!