Up here in Canadianaland, November really offers up little hope or joy to the less hearty souls among us.
The glory and colours of September are behind us, the trailing joys of warmth and beauty that October offers are but a distant memory, and all we really have ahead of us are months of long nights and arctic blasts of wind and sleet. …and perhaps I’m not entirely a winter person.
But if I’m not a winter person, The Pug sure isn’t a winter pug, so we are well-matched.
When it’s blustery and the sky is dark grey, it takes effort to haul ourselves outside for walks.
It’s clearly much more of an effort for some of us, however…
…some of us who try to pretend that we don’t have legs, and so how on earth could we ever move out of our cozy bed…
…some of us who clearly have great powers over the more feeble minds of their resident humans…
I thought I could shame or horrify The Pug into growing some legs by bringing her into the public realm in her bed, but this clearly only proves how much I still have to learn.
There is no willpower greater than that of a cozy pug.
I admitted defeat years ago. It just seemed the safer route to go, really.