The lovely folks at the Inn had prepared a big, clean, gorgeously comfortable bed for Lola Pug, as well as a bowl of welcome treats! (which I quickly whisked away, as I had no intention of meeting the finest vet in the city on this trip)
Well, this should make up, in part, for the wet hike, no, Pug?
But we’re not here to look at the inside of the hotel room all day, Pug, regardless of how lovely the interior might be.
The Pug’s memory is remarkably well-developed, and the mention of another walk later that day was not met with much enthusiasm.
No rain – but the “rain torture pose” still held strong….
HRH’s misery was somewhat abated by the thrill of peeing on new and unexplored territory.
Yes. She pees like a boy.
So as the sun started to set at the end of our walk, The Pug’s mood had shifted ever so slightly away from pained and vindictive misery to something resembling a cautious sort of semi-enthusiasm.
…which is about as much as I can expect, I suppose.
So I call this weekend a WIN in my books, and it’s onto planning The Pug’s *next* travel adventure. (because aside from scooping kibble, that’s really what I was put on this planet to do, no?)