Pug life Here in Dogtown, ain’t no breed like the original lapdog for gettin’ people hot on the block BY LISA CRAIG

Portland is a pug-crazy town. Well, dog-crazy, in general, sure. Everyone knows that by now. What with the city money to fund a new dog park on Ocean Avenue — somewhat solving the whole brou-ha-ha over the West End Cemetery — and the dog-accoutrement stores opening all over the Old Port, the dog insanity is hard to miss. But when the Portland Press Herald this week rehashed Tony Giampetruzzi’s "Look Who’s Barking" (from July of last year) and put Ray Routhier’s "Must Love Dogs" on the cover of their "Maine Life" section, it wasn’t a Golden Retriever or Black Lab they chose for the big picture to illustrate their point. No, they chose a pug. Just like we did last year. There’s something about the so-ugly-it’s-cute little-dog-who-acts-like-a-big-dog breed that gets people more than a little excited. Makes them crazy.

I know from experience. I’ve got a pug and I see what he does to people. And, of course, I’m a little crazy myself.

THE DEVIL’S IN THE DETAILS

On a late-night run to Cumberland Farms, I encountered a man outside of the convenience store. When he saw my five-year-old pug at the end of the leash, he had not one, but two stories to tell me. One was a heroic tale of how he once saved a pug’s life when he rescued him from drowning. The other recounted the way in which his friends in Massachusetts came to have seven, yes seven, pugs in one house.

I was tempted to put in a call to the cops: Have there been any pug abductions reported lately?

On another Saturday afternoon, I was watching a Red Sox game in the living room. Big Papi was up. There was a knock on my door. A girl who lives close by delivered a gift for my pug: a Halloween costume. She used to have her own, she explained, adores the little devils, and knows they like to play dress-up. The costume is red, with horns and little ankle cuffs. Pug chased the girl down the driveway growling and giving her hell.

On a scorching August day I was parked at a gas station just after my oldest-friend-with-a-pug’s wedding. I was in the front seat sipping a soda. Pug was regally seated on the folded-down roof of my Cabriolet. Suddenly, a couple darted toward us from the pumps. The man arrived first, stuck out his hand at my ferocious king and got bitten. He laughed. Then he watched his wife go through the ritual. They both laughed. Then they told me rapidly about their pug, Edmund, who is four years old and, like mine, a sock stealer.

There’s an instant connection to other people who live with this breed. We get along like parents with children of the same age. I met the first friend I made in Portland at Harborview Park, one weeknight during the autumn I moved here. I was sitting in the grass watching a boat hold up all the bridge traffic when a blonde girl and her baby pug crossed the street to the park. I shrieked, she shrieked, and we ended up drinking red wine in my dining room while the pugs wrestled through every room in my apartment.

Judge for yourself how smart pugs are: Every time the editor of this paper comes by, Pug bites him in the leg.

PUGS AND KISSES

Shane Kinney, comedian and drummer, lives the pug life with one-year-old Bella, who travels to all his gigs with him. He knows about the demands of pug parenting, and says it’s not for introverts. "When you are in public, everybody can’t help it. They have to say hello. Kids want to hold them, people want kisses," he explains. "I’ve been trying to make a name for myself through music, comedy, writing, and acting for years, and this dog steps outside and the whole world swoons."

"Pug is a charismatic breed," Kinney says. "It’s hard to not fall in love with them, especially Bella. Mark Belanger of Pigboat was over to my house and, mind you, this guy hates dogs so much he wrote a song about it called ‘Corpus canine.’ She totally melted him. She does that to everyone."

Kinney, like many, believes once you have a pug in your life, you’ll always have a pug in your life. "I had a pug growing up," he says, "and just grew to love the breed." He rented in Portland for nine years and was unable to have pets. When he bought his own home, he got a pug before he got curtains.

Pam Straw of Westbrook has had pugs for 30 years. She has an adopted three-year-old, who sits on her lap like a toddler, and is soon to welcome a newborn pup. But here’s the difference between Straw and a normal dog owner who takes fluffy down the beach to chase the stick: Straw creates pug jewelry and accessories. They are fascinating and ornate. Want a handbag with a pug on it? Straw’s your gal.

A BREED OF THEIR OWN

"Pug people are very passionate people about their breed," Straw explains. On Wednesday evenings she joins a special breed of passionate Portlanders on the Eastern Promenade for Pug Night (yes, it’s the sort of event that requires capitalization at this point). It’s a play date for pugs and their people. It’s really something.

Like you might see at Pug Fest in Pennsylvania, or at meetings on Pug Hill in New York City, smooshed-face dogs of all ages frolic off leash while owners sit on blankets and socialize. Baby pugs, graying pugs, pugs with Grateful Dead collars, fuzzy pugs, fat pugs, black pugs, and fawn pugs play. And they play hard.

Pug Night started in Portland with Kathy Palmer, owner of Fetch, because she wanted her dog Zip to play with other pugs. She found herself a subculture.

Karen Galbraith of South Portland and her pug Libby frequent Pug Night. "I’ve seen on a summer night 25 to 30 pugs here," Galbraith says.

The weekly pug attack on the Eastern Prom draws even non-owners like Lauren Hunter and Jeanna Leclerc. "I was up here once eating dinner two summers ago," Hunter says, "and was swarmed by pugs." She was so fascinated by the event she happened upon, or that happened upon her, that she keeps coming back. She admits that she even plans her work schedule around it. "She’s a pug addict, and this is her clinic," Laclerc jokes.

The cat-like, original breed of dog is not only a companion lap warmer like ancient pugs owned by royalty, but also a heart warmer. It’s easy to become addicted — there’s a lot of dog in a little package.

Pugs tail chase and do laps around the coffee table. They snore. They snort. They shed. They sleep on the backs of sofas. They carry soggy stuffed animals and bark at Radiohead music. They love hot dogs, showers, and riding in the car. They hate toll-booths and drive-thru workers. They bark at thunderstorms, motorcycles, and boyfriends. They kneed pillows and sleep under covers. They chase house flies, catch them, and try to get them to play again. They sleep late. They love cheese, cuddling, short walks, and long morning stretches.

More than anything, pugs love other pugs. They don’t like strangers much, though. But don’t worry. At Pug Night, introductions can be made. Are you read to go pug-crazy?

Lisa Craig can be reached at lcraig@phx.com