According to experts, pugs aren’t supposed to be good guard dogs. Tell that to Mr. Magoo.
He recently saved us from three mallard ducklings and their mother.
One evening Dick and I, joined by a neighbor, relaxed on the deck on the shoreline of Lac des Mille Lac, watching the sunset, a tradition we follow on nice nights.
Suddenly Dick put a finger to his lips. My neighbor and I immediately stopped yakking and looked up to see a mallard mama and three half-grown ducklings swim around the dock’s corner.
At the sound of ducks quacking, Abby, our big lab/ setter and Magoo, the pug, with ears perked and tails in air, went on the alert. Not wanting to disturb the little duck family, we restrained the dogs. However, the ducks moved closer to shore and circled. Clearly, they weren’t afraid of humans and were looking for a hand out.
The ducks continued their begging and, although we had no handouts and tried to shoo them away, they persisted. Finally we decided to let the dogs scare off the pesky waterfowl. I had my doubts. “These dogs don’t like water. Neither one will get its feet wet.”
I was wrong. We let the dogs loose, and to my utter amazement, Magoo charged into the water, barking furiously. This dog, who avoids rain puddles at all cost, was now dripping wet, dashing back and forth in the lake. He apparently didn’t remember that several years ago, he spent a summer swimming.
The three ducklings thought this was great fun and taunted the pug by staying just outside his reach. Abby (being the wiser of the two dogs) remained on shore.
Magoo leapt onto the dock and chided them from above. They swam in happy circles. He returned to the beach and charged again. With little quacks, the ducks continued their fun game of “taunt the pug.”
Mama duck tried to nudge her offspring into leaving, but they were having none of it. Not as long as they could play games with the strange creature who provided them with so much entertainment.
Eventually, Magoo barked so vehemently he lost his voice.
The ducklings and pug could have gone on for hours, but I finally grabbed Magoo’s collar as he galloped past and coaxed him up the gravel path to the cabin. Here I dried his soggy fur and lectured him on the virtues of moderation. However, even though exhausted, he maintained a definite swagger and slipping from my clutches ran back to the lake and started the chase all over again.
Once more, I retrieved the lively pug and this time, trapped him in the cabin.
Meanwhile, Mama Mallard persuaded her offspring to move, and they took off, no doubt snickering over the foolish dog who thought he could catch them.
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