That romantic time of year has finally arrived and boy do I have a bad case of anxiety! Despite having experienced four Valentine’s Days with Mamma Biscuit, I’m still never fully prepared for the onslaught of greeting cards, bouquets of flowers and boxes of chocolates that arrive by the truckload at the Pug Palace—all from dogs vying for Mamma’s love and attention. You see, I’m a possessive Italian Daddy who dotes over his little girl on the daily so the idea of another pug-gentleman caller (or any lesbian dogs for that matter) barking for her love makes me anxious and a little tough on her romantic admirers! Now if there’s any dog out there in the neighborhood that has eyes for my little girl, they better come barking for my permission first before making such a bold move as sending gifts with a romantic angle attached to them! We live in turbulent times (I watch Law & Order: Special Victims Unit, I know the deal) and Mamma needs her Daddy to screen her potential dates—even if she doesn’t know that I do such a thing. I know, I sound overbearing but it’s not easy being the parent of a female pug who seems to make every dog that passes her by during a typical walk want to hump her. It’s like she carries the curse of the puppy mill pheromone every where she goes, sending all breeds of dogs into a frenzy when she passes by! I know, it’s a dirty secret I’ve withheld from you all for a very long time and well, today, I thought I would reveal it. At least Mamma stopped trying to hop into any car on the side of the street that happened to have an open passenger door. I swear, I was convinced that she was once a streetwalker before arriving to our household!
At any rate, Mamma Biscuit spent the first half of the morning waiting by the window for her pug-gentlemen callers to arrive via the fire escape. I swear, if our little gremlin had long hair, she’d drop it down the window like Rapunzel and allow these dogs to come into our home for a cozy snuggle, a warm bath and a café Vienna! Now you see why Valentine’s Day gives me an anxiety attack? Mamma thinks she’s slick though, putting on her red knitted frock (a gift from grandma) with white polka dots and floral accent at the neckline but I know what’s truly going on.
A father knows when his daughter is getting dolled-up for someone outside the home but this year, I decided to be more of a modern Daddy and at least give her the illusion that she was gonna get away with it! A far cry from last year, when I took on the painstaking task of attaching a “return to sender” note to all of the flowers, candy and notes of love from all the male dogs in the neighborhood! Unfortunately, Mamma Biscuit demanded to see the mail this year so my hands were tied. Sigh, I’m slowly understanding that I can’t keep her locked up forever. I have to be realistic, in another ten or fifteen years, she may be ready to start a relationship with another dog. In the meanwhile, she’ll remain our Valentine’s and the only kisses she’ll get are from Tommy and I . . . but mostly from me!
After waiting and waiting (basically two minutes of staring at the bedroom window) our Biscuit Lady got tired and decided to drop down like a ton of bricks to take a nap!
So typical for her male suitors to be late and so typical of Mamma to pass out after exerting her attention for a couple of minutes but the moment she closed her marble eyes, I crept into the room and pulled the blinds down indicating that the Pug Palace was closed to all visitors!
I know, I’m such a jerk but It’s in my Italian-DNA as a parent to make sure Mamma remains “unavailable” in the neighborhood so if you have a problem with that, then you can go scratch!
After snapping these lovely Valentine’s Day portraits of Mamma (awake and asleep) we decided to deck the tree in our living room with vintage Valentine’s Day ornaments to make her Pug Palace feel more romantically festive!
There’s nothing I enjoy more than decorating Mamma’s home while she is sleeping and watching her react to the display once she’s awake! She gazes up at all of our holiday displays as if each ornament is an edible treat for her to enjoy. Once she realizes that the actual display will not interact with her, she’ll walk off into the kitchen and gaze at the cabinet containing her food and treats, waiting patiently for one of us to entertain her unsatisfied hunger!
Mamma’s Valentine’s Day Tree is chock full of vintage paper, glass, metal, fabric and flocked ornaments from our travels around many flea markets. Here are some highlights.
This year, I was able to resurrect some Christmas ornaments from my childhood that my mother gave me a year ago.
I had about ten or more of these gold gilded Roman pillars with white sparkly statues of Angels playing various instruments that I thought would look romantic on our tree. I’m so glad my mother didn’t simply give them to the Salvation Army because I found a permanent home for them on our tree!
The variety of ornaments on Mamma’s Valentine’s Day tree can fill any heart with warmth!
While I was hanging the ornaments, the Biscuit Lady woke up, jumped off the bed and came into the living room to fall asleep in her toile bed while watching me through her heavy eye lids.
The sound track on the stereo system was A Date With John Waters—a patchwork of dark, twisted, off-kilter love songs from the self-proclaimed master of bad taste! Tommy gifted me this signed copy for Valentine’s Day many years ago and we break it out every Valentine’s Day for a full listen!
Mamma Biscuit curled up so snuggly in her bed as all of the decorating took place and she didn’t wake up until one of her romantic suitors got smart and rang the buzzer to our apartment! I distracted her with a peanut butter treat and pretended that no one was at the door—again, I know, I’m such an overbearing Daddy!
Mamma Biscuit and family would like to officially wish you all a very Happy Valentine’s Day! Tommy and I will be spending the evening with our little pug, nestled between us, WHERE SHE BELONGS instead of gallivanting out on the town with some secret male pug lover—she’s just not ready to date in my opinion, maybe in ten years . . . MAYBE!