Pug Quotes

“You know," Gabe said, "Lady Penelope might actually like some of this artwork. Take a bit more care."
Ash retrieved the small, oval frame from the floor. It held a phenomenally ugly sketch of a cross-eyed, squished-face pug. "This is hideous."
"Yes," Chase agreed. "It's probably her favorite.”
― Tessa Dare, The Wallflower Wager

“That’s my sister. Abbie, I mean. Not the pug.”
― Roseanna M. White, The Nature of a Lady

“Kato and the Fountain of Wrinkles – where wrinkles meet Tinseltown. For famous pug actor Kato Rhyan, acting isn't about fame, it's a part of him buried deep within his soul; and he's not about to let anything stand in his way of becoming the first animal to win an Oscar for Best Actor, even if it means taking on a role that requires a wrinkly dog's worst nightmare -- Botox injections.
Dr. Carrington looked as though the wind had been knocked out of her. “Why would anyone ever want to go back to wrinkles?” she stammered.
“Well, obviously, we only agreed to do this because of the role. His face needs to be smooth for the fur extensions. But come on, you didn’t really expect him to want to stay wrinkle-free. Honestly, he’s a pug. They’re supposed to be wrinkly.”
“I mean, I know it can be done, but no one has ever asked me to do it before. Plus, I have a reputation to uphold. This is Beverly Hills. The last thing I need is the reputation that I can’t keep my wrinkles straight.” Rhys Ella, Kato and the Fountain of Wrinkles, 2014.”
― Rhys Ella, Kato and the Fountain of Wrinkles

“That dog," her mother gasped. "That dog. I can't catch him."
"What's wrong?"
"He grabbed your purse off the couch, pulled something out of it, and now he's running around like he's an escaped convict from Alcatraz!”
― Annie England Noblin, Pupcakes

“With the kind of laugh that India had never expected to hear from him again, Yash reached for the bundle of skin folds. "And who do we have here?" Every bit of deliberate enunciation was gone from his voice. Instead his pitch jumped to that strange voice people reserved for babies. "Hey, there, beautiful baby!"
And, damn it, the sun chose that moment to shoot a bright ray through a tree at his face.
"This is Chutney," Ashna said in a matching high pitch, presenting Yash with the pug as though she were a particularly delicious ice-cream sundae.
Chutney paused in her mouth-breathing to start lapping at Yash's face.
India and China gasped. India reached out to take her away, but Yash was smiling into Chutney's face. Not his politician smile, not even his you've-amused-me, peasant smile. This smile yanked her back through the years, eyes disappearing into slits, too much teeth and gums. An explosion of unadulterated joy. Tremors rippled low in her belly, high in her heart.”
― Sonali Dev, Incense and Sensibility

“They had named her Chutney because she smelled like a mix of too many things. None of them pleasant.
It's how she had smelled from the day they had brought her home, an abandoned year-old puppy with balance issues. They had changed her diet several times, switched to feeding her homemade food, bathed her every day. Nothing worked. It was the slobber. There was just some sort of genetic thing that no vet could figure out how to mask. Tara had declared that there was something magical about having a dog with an odor problem living in a home that made incense.”
― Sonali Dev, Incense and Sensibility

“Why does she angle her head like that?"
"She was abandoned as a puppy. When the shelter got her, they found a maggot infestation inside her ear. Her right eardrum's permanently damaged and it messes with her balance and makes her tilt her head like that."
"Poor brave girl." He leaned over and dropped another kiss on her head. Chutney let out one of her love-grunts.”
― Sonali Dev, Incense and Sensibility

“Aren't you a cutie," Evie said, picking up the fawn-colored dog. His dominant breed was clearly pug, but he was mixed with something else.
"Hey, Odessa, any idea what the pug is mixed with? Looks like maybe a beagle?" Evie called.
"That's what Doc thinks he's mixed with too," Odessa answered as she came into the room. "He was surrendered by his owner last week. The guy got him from a breeder as a gift for his girlfriend, but she wanted a miniature purebred pug and the breeder wouldn't give him a refund." She rubbed the dog behind the ear. "This one is a sweetie."
"Does he have a name?" Evie asked.
"He didn't come with one. He looks like an Oliver to me. Or maybe a Sam."
"You know I hate when dogs have people names," Evie said. As she scratched the top of his head, she took in his coloring. His light brown coat reminded her of Butterball, the Pomeranian she'd rescued in the eighth grade. But the dark brown face and ears were hallmarks of a pug.
"This brown spot on the top of his head is pretty unique," Evie said. "What if we call him Waffles?"
Odessa plopped a hand on her hip. "So you'd rather name a dog after breakfast than after one of the greatest singers of all time, Sam Cooke?"
"No offense to Sam Cooke, but Waffles is the perfect name for this cutie." Evie pointed to him. "Check out the shape of the dark brown spot on his head. It looks like a splash of syrup.
"You're a cute little stack of waffles, aren't you?" She rubbed her nose to his as she continued the head scratch.”
― Farrah Rochon, Pugs and Kisses