Of rescued pugs: a Wee tale

The nice thing about living up the street from a small public beach is that in the evenings, the neighbors all go down for a swim. Some even bring their dogs even though it's posted "no dogs" -- it's after hoursI decided to do The Walk with the pugs (per the Dog Whisperer), and by the time we'd gone the long way around the block, I figured they were pretty warm and perhaps willing to go in the water.

This was the first time I'd taken Erwin to the beach, and it was his first time seeing a person with some of those floaty "noodle" toys emerge from the water. She was a large woman, and I watched Wee tense up,

But he didn't bark. He didn't move. Just stood there like the man and watched. When she came closer and cooed at him, then let him stand there and lick her hand, he decided everything that comes out of the lake is WONDERFUL! She had come just to see him, and after we had chatted a bit and she turned to go back out, Erwin tried to follow.

Michael Phelps he is not. He's not even Erwin Phelps. He's just the Wee, who got a little nervous and got splashy which made him more frantic. Luckily another woman in water shoes waded out and assisted him by putting a hand under his belly. Then he thought he was Michael Phelps, but got DQ'd by me reeling him in on the leash.

The poor little dude had to be practically dragged away -- he wanted to play with his mermaid. Next summer.