A Pug Tale Read online

  The Adventures of Zelda: A Pug Tale

  Kristen Otte

  Contents

  The Adventures of Zelda: A Pug Tale

  1. The Beginning

  2. Zelda and the Treat Bowl

  3. Zelda vs. Vacuum

  4. Zelda and the Skate Park

  5. Zelda vs. Tucker and Whitney

  6. Zelda Goes to School

  7. Zelda and the Vacation

  8. Zelda vs. the Leaf Pile

  9. Zelda and Squeaks the Squirrel

  10. A Pug Christmas Story

  11. Zelda vs. the Snowman

  12. Zelda vs. Jack Jack

  13. Zelda vs. Gannondorf

  A Sneak Preview

  Afterword

  About the Author

  Series By Kristen Otte

  The Adventures of Zelda: A Pug Tale

  * * *

  Kristen Otte

  The Adventures of Zelda: A Pug Tale

  Copyright © 2013 by Kristen Otte. All rights reserved.

  Second Edition: December 2014

  Cover Design: Michael McFarland

  * * *

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  * * *

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons —living or dead— is entirely coincidental.

  * * *

  ISBN: 1491071664

  ISBN-13: 978-149107166

  Created with Vellum

  Dedicated to my stepfather, Jim, a kind and

  generous man who is missed greatly.

  1

  The Beginning

  I spent my first two years in a small, crowded house with a woman, her four children, her boyfriend, and three other pugs. I was the smallest of the pugs, so I struggled to eat my share of food. While the other pugs slept, I crept out of the cage to find scraps. Eating was the only reason I left my cage because the man of the house was terribly mean. He yelled often, so I stayed in the cage, scared of his reaction if I stepped in his way.

  Those first two years of my life were a blur, and every night I dreamed of a better life–a life with an endless supply of food, space to run, and friends to love. I never expected my dream to come true, but it did.

  The day my life changed started like any other. After a typical morning of sleep, I woke up to the woman entering the house. Instead of ignoring me, she walked to my cage and lifted me into her arms. She carried me outside and placed me in the arms of a stranger–a woman I had never seen. This woman stood next to a man with a big smile.

  Confused and scared, I didn’t know how to react, so I went limp in this woman’s arms. She carried me into a car, and the man drove us away from my old home.

  I don't know how Hannah and Nate found me that day, but I am glad they did. Hannah, Nate, Lucy, and Ben are my new family. Hannah and Nate are the woman and man who rescued me from my old home. Ben and Lucy are their kids. Ben is loud, energetic, and about half the size of Nate. I play many games with Ben. Lucy is much smaller than Ben, but she is super cute, and I love snuggling with her at night.

  “Why is she so wrinkly, Dad?” Lucy asked, the first day I came home.

  “Because she’s a pug,” Nate said.

  “Do all pugs have wrinkles?” she asked.

  “Yes, they do. That’s what makes them special. That and the smashed face,” Nate said.

  “I think her wrinkles are cute,” Lucy said. When Lucy said those words, I knew she would be a great friend.

  My new family calls me Zelda. I spend my days roaming the house, sleeping, eating, sleeping some more, playing, sneezing and snorting, barking at other dogs, and going for walks. I haven’t seen an empty food bowl yet, and I am free to roam the house. I can't remember the last time I was locked up in my crate! Instead, my family and I play with my angry bird, my owl, tennis balls, and any other toy I can find. When I am super excited, I run full speed laps through the house. My family calls the laps pug sprints.

  Walks are a brand new adventure for me. When Hannah or Nate put on their shoes, I know it's time for a walk. I run in circles around Hannah or Nate, trying to avoid the harness, but they always catch me. I don't mind the harness. I run in circles because I am so excited to go for a walk.

  When the front door opens, I bolt down the porch steps, pulling Nate or Hannah with me. I step on the grass and sneeze five or six times. Despite the sneezes, I love the fresh air and the never-ending scents. During our walks, I run from one edge of the sidewalk to the other. On a good day, the squirrels run across the grass and up the trees. If I wasn’t leashed, I know I could catch one.

  My favorite part of the day is when the darkness comes. I snuggle with Lucy or Ben and fall asleep with my best friends.

  I am a lucky pug. When I wished for a better life, I never imagined my dream would come true, but my new life comes with challenges. I am not sure how to be a good pug in my new home. I want to make my family proud, but sometimes my stubborn pug instincts take control. Other days I want more freedom, more treats, or more friends. Is that too much to ask?

  2

  Zelda and the Treat Bowl

  From my seat at the table, I watch Hannah pour a bag of my treats into a little bowl. She places a lid on the bowl and leaves the bowl of treats on the kitchen table.

  I can’t believe she left the treats within my reach!

  The treats smell delicious, and if I leap on the chair, then step on the table, I can reach the bowl. My family enforces a strict “no paws on the table” rule, but they don’t have to know I broke it.

  When my family leaves after dinner, I sprint to the kitchen. I leap on the chair and hoist myself onto the table. The bowl of treats is a few pug steps away. With the treats so close, my guilt disappears for breaking the “no paws on the table” rule. I sniff the bowl and feel a sneeze coming. I let loose. The force of the sneeze causes me to whack my nose on the table.

  Ouch.

  I shake my head and regain my focus. I try opening the lid with my paws, but I can’t get any traction on the slippery table. My paws are sliding everywhere!

  I bite at the lid next, attempting to free the treats, but my flat face makes it impossible to grip the lid. I try lifting the whole bowl, but the bowl is too heavy to hold in my little mouth. I am stumped. I don’t know what to do next.

  While I sit on my hind legs devising a plan, I hear the car pull into the driveway. I leap off the table, to the floor, and dash to my dog bed. As the door opens, I plop on my bed.

  "Hey bug,” Lucy says. Lucy calls me bug sometimes. I think it's because she can't say pug. I run to her and lick her face. Ben crosses through the doorway next. He grabs the bowl of treats and sits on the floor.

  Treats!

  I dash for the bowl, but Ben lifts it in the air seconds before I arrive. I’m in a full-speed sprint, and I can’t stop in time–I tumble into Ben’s leg. I bounce off him and plant myself in a sitting position facing him, pretending nothing unusual happened.

  “Down,” Ben says. I lie flat on the floor, and Ben gives me a savory bacon treat. We practice sit, down, up, and leave it before Ben speaks a strange, new command.

  “Shake.” He reaches for my paw.

  Shake! What is shake?

  We practice shake a few more times. I learn that shake means to place my paw in Ben’s hand. While we practice, the treat bowl taunts me. I need those treats!

  “Up,” Ben commands. As I stand o
n my hind paws, I think of an idea. The plan depends on the up command. When Ben says up, I will follow his directions. Ben knows I can only stand on my back paws for a short time. When I stand, I will walk forward to Ben and the treat bowl. After he gives me the treat, I will fall forward, land right in front of the treat bowl, grab the open bowl with my mouth, and dash under the bed with it. It’s the perfect plan!

  "Sit!" Ben says. I wonder how long he has been telling me to sit.

  "Down!" I lie on the floor.

  "Up!" Ben commands.

  This is it!

  I jump up, stand on my hind legs, stagger forward, lose my balance and fall. My front paws land on top of the treat bowl, sending the bowl flying into the air. The empty bowl lands a couple feet behind me and the treats scatter across the floor.

  With Ben laughing, I know it’s time to go for it. I inhale all the treats in front of me. I have eaten a dozen treats when the goose honking that haunts the pug species begins. My excitement, coupled with my small and flat nose, causes me to lose my breath. I make a terrible sound like a goose honk until I catch my breath.

  "What's going on here?" Hannah asks. She walks into the living room from the back room. She glances at the treats scattered around the room. Scared, I run inside my crate.

  "We had a little accident," Ben says.

  “What kind of accident?” she asks.

  “Zelda knocked over the bucket of treats,” Ben mumbles. Hannah laughs and picks up some of the treats lying close to her.

  “Okay, just don’t let Zelda eat all the treats. She is a little pug, you know,” Hannah says.

  “Okay, Mom.” Ben lets out a sigh of relief. Hannah walks back to the office.

  "Here you go Zelda.” Ben hands me all the treats on the floor. “Don’t tell Mom I gave them to you.”

  I am shocked. I made a mess, but I didn’t get in trouble, and I ate the bucket of treats. In my old house, this would have never happened. I am so happy to be a part of this family.

  3

  Zelda vs. Vacuum

  After a few weeks with my new family, my days fall into a pattern. Most nights, I sleep in Lucy’s bed under the covers with her. Ben thrashes and kicks during the night, so I stay away from his bed. In the morning, I wake Lucy with a sneeze to her face. I never intend to sneeze in her face, but when I lick her, a sneeze overpowers me, and I let loose.

  Nate, Ben, and Lucy leave in the morning after breakfast. After they leave, Hannah and I take our morning walk. After the walk, I nap for several hours. When the kids return home in the afternoon, the rest of my day begins.

  This afternoon Hannah returns home with a giant box. She places the box in the corner of the living room. I sniff the box, but it has no traces of other animals or dogs. The box stays in the living room until Nate returns home later in the day. He opens the box and assembles the parts into a robot. I hear Nate call the assembled creation Vacuum.

  Vacuum has a blue, square base with two back wheels. On top of the base is a clear cylinder with another blue cylinder inside. Sticking out from the cylinder is a long tube that thins toward the top end. Vacuum doesn’t have eyes or arms.

  Hannah moves Vacuum into the coat closet, but she leaves the door open a crack. I approach the closet slowly. I paw the door open to see if Vacuum is blocking the milk-bone slot. Almost every day a milk-bone appears in the slot with envelopes and paper. When I stand on my back paws, I can reach into the slot and grab the milk-bone with my mouth. Sometimes I rip apart the paper to get to the milk-bone, but I hide the mess under Ben’s bed.

  As I approach, Vacuum stands still. Even though Vacuum doesn’t have eyes, she is staring at me, daring me to come closer. I bark, hoping to get a reaction. She does not respond. I bark louder. No response.

  “Leave it!” Nate shouts.

  Leave it? Oh man.

  I don’t want to get in trouble today. I turn and run to Nate, forgetting Vacuum for now.

  The next day Hannah opens the coat closet and drags Vacuum into the living room. She pulls a long black cord out and plugs it into the wall. Vacuum comes to life with a horrible, deafening sound. I rub my ears against the floor to block the sound, but it doesn’t work. I need the sound to stop. I can’t function with the piercing noise.

  I shake until I regain my bearings. Hannah and Vacuum glide through the living room from one side of the room to the other. I think Hannah is trying to push her away, but Vacuum pushes back.

  What if Hannah is in danger?

  My ears hurt, but I can’t let my ears get in the way of saving Hannah. I run forward and chase Vacuum. I give her my loudest, fiercest bark. Vacuum does not stop. I nip and bite at her, but she keeps going. I chase her around the living room. The three of us run laps until the deafening noise disappears. I stand frozen in the middle of the living room.

  Hannah takes the black cord out of the wall and moves Vacuum back to the coat closet. Vacuum does not make a sound.

  What just happened?

  I don’t understand Vacuum. I don’t know if she is trying to hurt Hannah, but Vacuum needs to understand I am the protector of this family. I walk to Vacuum, bark three times, and walk away.

  For the next several days, Vacuum stays quiet in the closet. She doesn’t move an inch when I retrieve my milk-bones, so I stop shaking when I walk into the closet.

  My shakes return when Hannah moves Vacuum from the closet and pulls the cord out. I know trouble is coming.

  Hannah and Vacuum move next to the living room couch. Hannah pulls a tube out from Vacuum and attaches an arm.

  Wait a minute. Where did the arm come from?

  I bark at Hannah, trying to warn her this is a bad idea. She ignores me.

  My fear rises when I hear the terrible sound. Vacuum propels into motion. The tube starts swinging as Hannah drags the arm along the couch. A million ideas run through my head of how Vacuum will hurt Hannah. I need to save Hannah.

  Vacuum approaches my spot on the other end of the couch. The arm continues to sweep back and forth. As the arm approaches, I notice the place where the arm connects into the tube. Her weak spot is the connection.

  I dart for it and wrap my mouth around the tube. My small jaws barely fit around it, but I pull as hard as I can. Nothing moves. I hear Hannah yelling in the background, but I can’t make out any of the words. The end of the arm must have attacked her. I put every last ounce of strength into the next yank. The arm bursts free from the tube.

  I did it!

  With the arm in my mouth, I bolt downstairs to the basement. I carry the arm into the back corner closet. I drop it on the floor, use my head to close the door and run back upstairs.

  I hear no sound in the living room. I hope Hannah is safe. I creep around the corner. Vacuum is out of sight, but Hannah glares at me.

  “Where did you put it?” Hannah asks. I stare at her blankly.

  Doesn’t she understand that I saved her life?

  “Zelda, the Vacuum isn’t going to hurt you,” Hannah says.

  That’s right!

  There’s no way that Vacuum can hurt me because I destroyed her arm. I smile and let my tongue hang out. Vacuum can’t stop this stubborn, flat-faced, and wrinkly pug.

  4

  Zelda and the Skate Park

  The sun is shining, the flowers are blooming, and a light breeze is blowing–it is a perfect spring day. The whole family is going for a walk. I can’t hold back my excitement.

  “Zelda, stay,” Nate says. I ignore his plea, sprinting back and forth between Lucy and the door until he tackles me. He slips on my harness and opens the front door. I scamper out the door to Ben in the front yard. Nate hands my leash to him, and we take the lead.

  After a few weeks of walks, I know my favorite route in the neighborhood. The route is a big loop packed with tall squirrel trees, barking dogs, and a school. Ben and I head in this direction. Lucy follows us on her wheels while Nate and Hannah lag behind. I chase a squirrel up a tree, bark at three dogs, and sniff more bushes than I can coun
t before we reach the school.

  “Do you want to go to the park?” Hannah asks in front of the school.

  “Yes!” Lucy shouts. “Can I go to the playground?” I am not sure what the park is, but if Lucy wants to go, I’m all for it.

  “Sure, dear,” Hannah says.

  “Can I take Zelda along the path while you are on the playground?” Ben asks.

  “Sure, just stay within our sight,” Nate says. Lucy, Nate, and Hannah walk away.

  Ben leads me on an unknown sidewalk in the opposite direction. We walk behind the school to a fenced area. Inside, a few people hit yellow balls into a net. As we walk past, I bark a hello. The sidewalk leads us past another fenced section that is different from the last.

  I stop in front of the fence, fascinated by the scene. Inside the fence are ramps and towers of different sizes with people riding up and down the ramps on boards with tiny wheels. The people stay on the smaller ramps, except for one brave guy. He tries the tallest ramp, but he ends up sliding down it on his butt.

  My curly tail wags from one side to the other in excitement. I want to go in the fence and run around the ramps! I bet I could make it up the highest one.

  I trot around the fence, looking for a way inside. On the opposite side, I see a young man leave. I pull Ben that way and see a gate into the fence. When we are within four pugs’ length of the gate, I lunge forward.