Who's my Whittle Shmoop Shmoop?

This is a question the crazy woman asks me every day around noon. Here I am basking in the sunlight of the office window, warm and groggy, when she kneels beside me, flips me on my back and starts rubbing my belly asking, "Who's my whittle shmoop shmoop." I am so subdued by the warmth of the sunlight and my afternoon nap that I just lay there and take it, even withstanding her kisses on what she calls my "soft whittle chin." I guess the answer to this question is, "I'm your whittle shmoop shmoop," but I have too much self-respect to say it.

I haven't had a theme month in a while, so this month's theme is, "Stupid Questions the Woman asks and the Pugs who Answer Her." I think you'll all be well entertained this month. ..