Our little guest, Merry, is everything a pug should be – adorable, (REALLY adorable), smart, deeply funny, incredibly sweet natured, and completely food obsessed.
Despite having extremely limited vision (you can see she is down to one, cataract-y eye), she bravely makes her way around, and she *always* manages to be where the food is.
Alas, her strategies to get food out of me are all for naught, as Casa Lola is strictly a non-begging household. But that doesn’t stop Merryweather…
The tiny claws of pain were raking the flesh off my legs this morning. I need to remember to wear thicker long pants in the kitchen from now on.
Merry is interested in ALL kinds of food.
She’ll snorfle for kale salad…
…she’ll even come and see what I might be eating when I’m in the bath.
I actually wouldn’t put it past her to jump right into my mouth to retrieve whatever it is I might be chewing at that moment….
Yah. I’m a little besotted with Miss Merryweather, if you can’t tell.
I think that Lola Pug might have tried to tell Merry that I’m a party-pooper in the food department, but hope springs eternal with this one.
We often have our Pug (and Golden Retriever) family come to visit us at Casa Lola, and this week, we are playing host to one of Lola Pug’s best buddies, the lovely and delightful Miss Merryweather.
It usually takes a few days for our guests (and us) to settle into a routine that works for everyone, but Merry has fit in with our daily life pretty quickly.
She even helps me when I sit down to get to work…
…yup… there is space for me somewhere on this chair…
…if I could just squeeze in a little bit more, Miss Merry…
…that’s about right.
Nothing like starting a Wednesday with a great big smile on my face.
Oh. And you can stay here forever, little one. Just so you know.
The children at Casa Lola all have four legs (if you aren’t counting the human who often acts like a child), and this Mother’s Day, I am very lucky to have the delightful Miss Merryweather staying with us.
Lola and Merry have known each other for about six years now, and they have always been buddies, due, in part, to Miss Merryweather’s unbelievably delightful personality (more on this in an upcoming post).
Unlike Nelly and Roxy, Merry is not *technically* family, but I have long maintained that family is who you choose it to be, and we overwhelmingly and most definitely choose Merry.
…even if we do have to share our beds with her when she comes to visit.
To all the mothers out there with two-legged, four-legged, three-legged!, winged, scaled or angel kids – Happy Mother’s Day.
Pug, popsicle, park…
Despite my intentions to sit on my butt and eat croissants and chocolate as the marathoners passed by our home this morning, I found myself out with The Pug, cheering on the runners in their mad dash to the finish line (which was a long way off for them when they passed by Casa Lola).
I mean, what could be better for morale than seeing a PUG come out to cheer you on?
Ah. Yeah. Maybe not this pug.
She *did* bark at a few runners on our walk back home, so I take that as showing support. …although if I spoke fluent Pug, I would likely have heard something more along the lines of, “What! Are you people INSANE? Go back home and GO BACK TO BED!”
So much energy wasted, eh, Pug?
You’re right. Time for a nap, little one.
Too much excitement for one morning.
…a new doctor.
Oh, Lola Pug.
Dogs tend to hide pain, so it’s VERY important to be vigilant about *any* change in behaviour – drinking more water than normal, unusual accidents in the house, hiding under furniture…. Often, these early signs of disease and injury are overlooked, and by the time we take notice, it’s too late to do anything.
And besides, isn’t it better to spend a bit of time and money at the vet now than spend even more time and money at the therapist’s office after it’s too late?
That being said, LP had an incident this week that had us sitting in a neurologist’s office all morning yesterday.
I think we’re up to four specialists now, in addition to her awesome Uncle Deji, who is her (awesome) vet GP.
Making friends everywhere, little one….
All seems to be well again, thank goodness, and we’re on a “watch her closely” protocol for the next few weeks.
And as long as I don’t give her *too many* kisses, I think that Lola Pug doesn’t mind the extra attention.
Well. Okay. Maybe she does. But that just means she’s back to normal again.
Love you, Pug.
Let me start by saying that The Pug is an early riser, thanks to my work schedule in her puppyhood that had me up and alert waaaaaay before the sun even thought about making an appearance.
Thankfully, this is not the schedule I need to keep these days, but old habits die hard (or just never die), so I often find myself with a relentless, dancing pug on my face at the most inhumane of hours.
Well. To cut to the chase, I decided a few weeks ago that I would get more sleep if I brought her water bowl to bed so that neither of us would have to get up for her post-breakfast morning water break.
Yup. I brought the mountain to Mohammed.
…and now Mohammed has learned that I am the source of All Things Room Service, and I SWEAR she now “boofs” at the bowl beside the bed JUST for the thrill of watching me serve her water on command.
Once again, outwitted by my pug.
I shudder to think what clever thing I’ll teach her next.
Recently, a dear friend of mine took up knitting, mostly, as she confessed, to give her something to do so she “wouldn’t stab people” while waiting for appointments and meetings and friends who were running late. (*ahem*)
Although stabbing some people sounds like a lot of fun to me, in a hypothetical sense, of course, it would be a Bad Thing to do. The knitting thing seemed a bit intimidating, so I decided to teach myself how to crochet, instead.
And I hereby declare my first project to be a SUCCESS!
…I’ll bet that someone is sure regretting dancing on my face at 4:00am this morning to get me up to feed her.
Oh, this is just the beginning, Pug. This is just the beginning.
I might want to think about hiding my wool, though. Something in her look speaks of revenge.
Many lifetimes ago, when I lived out on the East Coast, I learned not to get too excited about the official arrival of Spring. Sure, the longer hours of daylight are something to celebrate (in a BIG way), but there was always some sort of sneak attack by Old Man Winter that you had to be on guard for. The last snowstorm in June was usually the point where you could really let your guard down.
This doesn’t, of course, mean that I appreciate the snow and sleet and general grey that’s happening outside right now, though.
The Pug knows what’s up out there, and she won’t even get out of bed anymore….
Getting her harness on when she’s in this mood pretty much involves magic and slight of hand…
…but somehow, it happens.
And thank dog she’s only 14 pounds, because – yes – I do have to carry her limp, passively resistant self outside.
Time to pick up The Great Resisto and head outside.
Wish us luck!
Lola’s passive protest reached new levels of limp today, and when we got outside, I could see why. It was crappier than I had even guessed. But, with some encouragement, the pees and poops were quick and efficient, and I think that I’m going to change Lola’s name to Gandhi. …but no hunger strikes, of course. She IS a pug, after all.
I love holidays.
It’s not even about the chocolate anymore (WHAT?) – it’s about raiding someone’s substantial closet, and pulling out the seasonal favourites….
Oh, this makes her soooo happy.
At least she has a little friend to keep her company this year.
Nothing I do seems to impress her anymore.