Pug, popsicle, park…
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.
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.
The Pug and I are lucky in that the cities we travel to most often have good pug populations, so we get a lot of variety in both our socialising and our scenery.
Every so often, we’re lucky enough to be in town for the more formal pug play dates. There’s nothing quite so wonderful (or hilarious) as seeing a bunch of pugs running around and playing together.
Lola doesn’t exactly approach these events with as much enthusiasm as I do.
I don’t think Lola even identifies herself as being “pug”.
Lola’s life is, I believe, *very* dramatic in her own mind…
I’ve been a bit behind on my posts recently. I’ll blame it on spring cleaning…spring fever…spring patio season….
Speaking of spring … Lola Pug suddenly seems to have a whole bunch of new friends in the ‘hood, and ALL of them are PUPPIES!!!
First to the gate is BOSS! Our newest, sweet as pie, wouldn’t hurt a fly (but, wait – can he still eat them?) Boxer pup neighbour.
Boss met Misty when he first came home, and he immediately fell in love. She didn’t seem to mind him, either.
And where was Lola in all of this puppy love?
Right where you think she’d be, of course…
…at a safe distance.
(thanks to Boss’s Mum, Jen, for the photo of Lola and Boss. For more Boss – and more Bullies, in general – visit Jen online here!)
There is nothing dreamier than sitting in a garden on a gorgeous, warm spring day, surrounded by flowers and trees and green.
The Pug loves nature, too. One of her favourite warm-weather activities is sitting on the grass in the sunshine.
I know…how does she find the energy? She’s unstoppable, I tell you.
She also loves flowers. She often sniffs them…before she stomps on them. But she was already lying down here…
…I really should have learned from the Easter chickens, no?
I can dress you up, pug….
…leashed. And slightly bored, methinks.
Out in the civilised wild, surrounded by trilliums on a beautiful spring day. Nary a bear in sight, still too cool for the snakes and bugs, good smells for pugs and people abound…
…and she’s still not impressed.
She shows her patriotism and thanks by allowing me to feed her every day, I suppose.
You are one seriously tough customer, little girl.