Last Lick: Tiny Dog Stories

Miniature, reader submitted dog stories of no more than 100 words.

My husband named him Gunter, not after Gunter Grass, the Nobel Prize-winning novelist, but a Springfield, MA bakery. He was the runt of a litter of eight Pug/ sumo wrestlers. His stout, fawn-colored siblings had tightly curled tails and furrowed brows that seemed to ask the perpetual question, “What?”

Gunter weighed one pound. He was black, his eyes turned outward, and his tail stuck out like half a parenthesis.

Once Gunter snapped at his veterinarian, who said, “Pugs, they don’t like to be messed with.” This has become our family’s mantra when things don’t make sense in the human world. —Carole Lambert