I’m pretty much sworn against using dumb dog photos. But this one’s, well, the truth. How do you suppress the truth?

We love our pug Eloise. We found her on the side of the road, abandoned on a dangerous stretch. What happened next was a portent we ignored. We approached her like dog lovers approach stranded dogs, gently, speaking soft words, asking her to let us rescue her.

Her response? She took off like a shot, aiming herself mindlessly under the wheels of a giant SUV, which did actually clip her with a front wheel. She was hurled across the road, suffering multiple cuts and bruises that enabled us finally to catch her.

That was the day I had to apologize to the driver for what I said when he leaped from his car in horror at what he had done. (Yes, I do know when I need to apologize.) That was also the day, after lots of frantic driving around, we found our current vet facility. We’ve gone nowhere else since. So that’s to the good.

But then there’s Eloise. We got her right after returning from our honeymoon. I grew up with smart dogs, shepherds and terriers. Lady Laird as a rescuer of greyhounds was used to dogs that are, uh, not too bright. Neither of us was prepared for the pinnacle of stupidity represented by pugs.

What did we know? We watched Animal Planet documentaries about pugs. They were, well, baffling. The owners clearly loved them, made them the center of their lives, lavished all kinds of love (and outfits) on them, but it always seemed like they were winking at the camera, that there was some secret only pug afficianados would ever understand.

Almost ten years in, we know what that secret is. Pugs are not the sharpest knife in the drawer, they’re not the sharpest nail, pencil, crayon in the box, not the brightest bulb in the pack, not the fastest car in the lot, not the heaviest hammer in the toolbox… Oh Stop!

They’re the absolute dumbest dog in the world. All these years in, Eloise will still knock over her food bowl trying to evade having you attach her leash while she’s eating. Subsequently, she will get herself wound around furniture, steps, anything in the landscape and then rush at you frantically bug-eyed while you try to untangle her, which she will most often sabotage with renewed efforts to ensnarl herself.

None of this is meant to say we don’t love her or that we would ever give her away. It’s just that we’re bewildered. Pugs have a cult following. People who are clearly committed to getting pug after pug after pug, as if they were the answer to some question heterosexuals should be asking themselves.

We won’t be getting another pug when, and if, we survive Eloise. We’d get a Boston terrier, physically similar but smart as a whip and with excellent manners to boot.

There are lots of shows about dogs and which ones to get. Why I felt some responsibility. What they say about pugs is mostly true. Generally healthy, faithful companions, incredibly grateful for human contact, fine with children, and cute as a button, all of them.

But if it matters to you — and maybe it doesn’t — the average fence post is not as dumb as a pug.