Meet Romeo, CLP
Our Real Chief Lovepug







My family has loved pugs for nearly my whole life. So when a friend who works with animal rescue groups called out of the blue, looking for a foster home for a pug who had just survived something no dog should ever have to endure, she knew exactly who to call.
He'd been found tied inside a garbage bag, thrown into a dumpster. Sanitation workers were seconds from compacting the load when one of them noticed the bag moving. They stopped the machine, opened the bag, and found a pug's face staring back at them — startled, scared, and utterly confused.
I didn't even finish the phone call before I was in the car, driving over the George Washington Bridge into New York City to meet a dog the rescue had named "Hefty", partially due to his robust size coupled with the circumstances of his discovery.
One look at his ruggedly handsome face — and those rolls on his back that looked exactly like a fresh loaf of bread — and I already knew this wasn't going to be a foster situation. My family has a long history of being what we call "foster failures," and this was never going to be any different.
He needed a new name. One that didn't carry the trauma of the life he was leaving behind, and instead fit the future waiting for him — surrounded by family, loved completely for who he was, and home for good.
Built for comfort more than speed, and with a renewed love for life and his new family, we named him Romeo. Little did we know the impact his life would have on us all.
As an educator who works with young students, I know how deeply children connect with animals. So it was no surprise that Romeo—his origin, his nightly mischief, his funny quirks, and his enormous personality—began naturally finding his way into my teaching.
Little Romeo stories became vignettes, examples, and playful tricks to help students remember skills, solve problems, and build character. Before long, those silly, whimsical teaching moments became something more. Students wanted more stories. More Romeo-inspired problems. More ways to bring him into the classroom. Pug pictures and artwork began filling the walls, creating a distinctly Lovepug landscape born from the imagination, heart, and passion of one classroom family—and eventually, many more.
Naturally, I began calling my students “Lovepugs.” The name stuck. Then I started calling all students Lovepugs—even children I had never met—because I wanted every child to feel that same special sense of belonging. And then something unexpected happened: Lovepug became more than a nickname. It became a movement.
Romeo took on a life of his own, becoming a rather special kind of small-town celebrity. Each September, a new group of eager learners walks through the door already excited to become part of the Lovepug family. That sense of belonging is the foundation for everything else. It creates the bond that helps children feel seen, valued, and ready to love learning, growing, and discovering.
And Romeo's reach didn't stop at the classroom door. Children began creating their own stories—often inspired by their own pets, their own imaginations, or Romeo himself. One little story led to another, and Romeo's impact continued to grow, one Lovepug at a time.
In our years together, Romeo has been as much a teacher to me as I’ve been to the Lovepug community. I’ve always prided myself on building strong bonds with my students. But seeing them through the Lovepug Lens taught me to look even deeper—to embrace the gifts, quirks, and passions they bring into the classroom and use them as pathways to sharpen their learning, celebrate their uniqueness, and build their confidence.
Romeo is getting older now—a tired old boy, closer to retirement than he’s ever been. But he still has something to teach anyone willing to listen: there is something inside each of us that we may not even know is there.
Romeo can’t speak, but his superpower was never words. It was his ability to simply share his heart with the world, exactly as he was. And somehow, the world loved him right back.
That became my lesson, too.
When a new child walked through my classroom door, I learned to look beyond what they could—or couldn’t—do and search for the gift already waiting inside them. My job was not to create that gift. It was to help them discover it, nurture it, and turn it into their own superpower—something they could build their confidence around, fall in love with learning through, and carry with them wherever life took them next.
That is what Lovepug Learners is really about.
Honor your own worth. See the worth in others. Meet each person where they are. Wrap learning around what they already love. Then give them the confidence to take what they’ve discovered and fly.