Either our pugs are the most accepting of all animals, or their survival instincts have been suppressed to the point where, instead of competing with each other for food, they collaborate in wholesale begging.
Cleo and Rikki don't know to whom they should look for free handouts.
why r ur hands empty, auntie?
Cleo wonders if perhaps a stray morsel has fallen onto the table. easily accessed, by the way, due to her pole position on her uncle's lap.
it smells like food
The pugs wait patiently. They know, from experience, that if they look pathetic enough for long enough, they will be fed.
So we've got 5 pugs milling around, and what is there to do? well, pack 'em up into the car and head to Tomales Bay for some fresh-shucked oysters! (for us humans. because we were sure that raw oysters for pugs was bad. the pugs had to make do with truffle sausage, wild boar sausage, and infinite varieties of cheese. BUT NO WINE.)
Deedee was verrrrrrrry interested in the oysters.
wha, mama. i was only looking
Cleo was just happy, as usual, to be out and about and loved.
Sasha required a bit of protection from the sun. That black pug fur soaks up a lot of rays.
I am terrifically lax in posting pics from our visit with the hairy-ass, em I mean, supper cuddly pug cousins from NYC, Bunni and Rikki!
I will just note, briefly, here that fawn pugs apparently possess 2 coats (an undercoat and incredibly profligate outer coat), while black pugs make do with just one. Not a great survival trait for black pugs in the frost-bitten woods of the wild, but also essentially unnecessary for pampered fawn pugs in urban environments whose last forage foray can be summed up with 'poached asparagus or raw?'. From what I can tell, the main purpose of the fawn double coat is to reduce The One Whose Job It Is To Vacuum, to tears.
Note aside. We, and the Deedles, LOVE when the cousins (and their mama and dada) visit. There's nothing like having a pug stashed in every corner. Deedee, in particular, is just delirious with finally being able to frolic with a non-geriatric pug.
To the casual observer, it may look like Deedee is just getting the crap beaten out of her, but look closer:
When Deedee first joined our pug family, she had glommed onto Sasha as her big sister. wouldn't leave her alone, constantly playing with her, licking her ears, snuggling with/sitting on top of her. Sasha tolerated this puppy behavior for all of one hot minute, and then made it clear that she was the Grande Dame and not to be trifled with. So Deedee has since moved onto Cleo as her perma-friend.
Well, Sasha, it appears that you didn't make your message entirely clear to the Deedles.
So I'm archiving my photos from our recent trip to the beach, and one of the pics tugs a little more than usual at my heartstrings. And not just because Deedee is so damn cute (which she is just try and DEFY ME), but because her happy expression reminds me exactly of the deliriously happy face she had on during her first beach trip ever.
Summer 2008 ----------------------------------------- Spring 2011
As I have alluded to previously, the puglets love the beach. And not just a little. Miss Sasha Geezerpug will usually shed approximately 7.8 years off of her life and miraculously develop plushy joint cartilage so that she can frolic freely in the sand.
Or in the water.
Le Grande Dame is, uncharacteristically, completely blase about where her frolicking is done.
Cleo, on the other hand, likes to keep a very cautious distance from the water.
Because it's about -1000 degrees in temperature, and it is, well, wet.
She does, however, LUUUUUVVV snuggling with her human on the blanket.
happy panting pug
Deedee was either thrilled to be reunited with the surf, or just stir-crazy after being cooped up during all the rain we had. As soon as her little paws hit the sand, she started sprinting. Except that didn't work out quite the way she had hoped a la Lassie, since she was still firmly attached to her leash, and thus, me. I will say this -- Santa should think about employing some pug puppies for speed.
Deedee lost no time in making new friends.
All that cavorting around makes for a tired puglet. Where better to nap than on the sun-warmed sand?