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.
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.
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.
(because sometimes, even a bad photo is a good photo, y’know?)
I don’t watch football.
Don’t understand the rules, don’t know any of the teams or the players, don’t know what the fuss is all about.
Hockey? Different story.
But for Christmas this year, Tilly’s people gave Lola Pug a little football jersey. It was as if they knew that I had been depriving her all these years.
She was captivated.
…wouldn’t take her eyes off the game…
I don’t know what happened. I wasn’t watching. I was in another room, doing other things.
I assume that she was barking for the Patriots (she *does* pick teams, much to my amazement and amusement), so perhaps her funky mood this morning is due to their loss last night.
Ah, well, there’s always the NHL.
We’ve been quiet on the blogging front recently, ’cause there really hasn’t been too much action or fun around here recently. HRH is either grumpy or depressed these days, and it’s truly a special day if I can even get her interested in a longer walk of any sort.
This doesn’t mean, of course, that she’s stopped being totally hilarious.
Witness evidence of our recent “walk”…
…all the way down the hallway to her buddy, Boss‘s door.
She plops herself down in front of his home, willing him to come out.
Thing is…sometimes he actually does come out.
And so, the pug continues to learn that stalking sometimes actually pays off.
Way to go, me.
Now. About that WALK, little pug….
Yes, Lola Pug actually was at the play date on the weekend – just to answer a few people who questioned her actual presence at the event.
In case you were wondering what Lola Pug actually does at a play date, I offer you this…
Yup. She sits with me, and supervises the activities of the “dogs”.
She really and truly has no clue that she is one of them.
As long as she still plays with her pug buddies now and then, I’m totally cool with that.
Thanks to Michele (Griffy Mum Extraordinaire!) for the photo.
I can’t get enough of pug puppies. Especially this little one.
The thing about puppies is they explore with their mouths, so they have to be kept under close watch at all times.
For example, you might think that puppy teeth are no match for an aluminum ladder…
…but one can never be too careful…
…puppy teeth are equal only to shark teeth….
…seriously, girl. That can’t taste very good.
Unfazed, and sitting like a true pug princess, Jo contemplates her next snack.