Another new bed

Sasha likes to find sleeping spots in the oddest places. Usually it's a pile of clothes on the bathroom floor -- OK maybe left by me, I mean I am a busy woman and have numerous outfit changes to coordinate. So I got her this adorable little clamshell bed with a built-in warmer for her aging bones.

Methinks she likes it.

She just needs an apple in her mouth

I believe I've mentioned the pugs' predilection for the tops of the sofa cushions. It is, usually, Cleo that's nestled there about 100% of the time.

Look at her, all bundled up into a little sofa-ball.

hmmm.....

She kinda looks like a piglet, waiting to be trussed.

Look at these paws. They're just waiting to be collected and tied.

Recovering from the weekend

It was a busy weekend for the puglets -- meeting new friends, catching up with old friends, taking all those naps, eating all those meals... a puglet needs her beauty sleep. And that's what Mondays are for.

Sasha

Cleo

Deedee

One of those days

Have you ever felt just a little blue, just a little forlorn? sometimes the waning rays of the sun will bring out a touch of the doldrums.

Royal treatment

What the queen-bee pug wants, she gets. In this case, it's an extensive belly rub from the grampa. I'm pretty sure Sasha has mastered the art of mind-control.

Cleo and Deedee crane their necks around the grampa's lap, like they're waiting in line for their turn.

is that eau d'ear that i smell?

They'll have to wait for a long time before Sasha relinquishes her mind-meld.

it is! i will take a deeper whiff. perhaps a small slurp

Sasha would like the camera flash to stop, please.

I see nothing, I hear nothing

In Sasha's case, she really can't. As she's gotten older, she's preferred more and more the 'buried-head' position -- to shield her gradually dimming eyes from the light.

And now that her hearing is also fading, she's less and less aware of the outside world, enveloped as she is in this cottony silence. She doesn't hear the doorbell anymore -- no more howling at the UPS guy (he probably does not appreciate the reduction in pug cacophony, however). We have to make sure to thud the ground with our feet when we approach so as not to startle the geriatric pug. She misses out on little things, so sometimes I have to physically get her for treat-giving, even tho the other two are howling.

She's always be my little girl, my little grand dame.

Grampa and Cleo = BFFs

I think that Cleo's fave person in the whole wide world is her grampa. No one else is able to dish out the bottomless love, cuddles and snuggles that this pug craves as her lifeblood. For example, it is not enough for this puglet to spoon herself with you when taking a nap. She needs to be half on top of your body, crushing one of your lungs.

grampa if u can still breathe i am not close enuff

She also requires almost constant contact -- and if it's in the form of belly, chest or ear rubs, all the better. Neither I nor the pugs' dada have that kind of attention span. Luckily the grampa spends the majority of his day in the supine position, which is perfect for the needy pug.

i am ready for another 24 hour nap, grampa

Happy Birthday, dada!

And to celebrate, the pugs will do what they do best.

Sleep.

we r sleeping in an exuberantly celebratory way

Quick jaunt to the shore

For oysters. For the humans. Because Cleo is violently allergic to seafood (in that her GI system rebels and produces copious amounts of diarrhea). And it seems patently unfair to indulge the other pugs if one of them cannot partake. So they had to settle for artisan-made cheese and bread. Poor pugs.

Deedee is waiting for her share

Sasha really really really would like a nibble

Cleo is not even trying to be subtle

Of course, the pugs' wiles are only too effective on their grampa.

grampa is munching happily away, and all of the sudden feels the weight of 2 pairs of pug eyes boring into the sides of his skull

he makes his decision. and he looks around furtively to make sure he's not being watched.

I don't think it would've mattered if I'd also had a spotlight and movie camera in hand. The pugs still got their share.

Remember how I said the pugs would never be able to survive in the wild? I take it back.

quiet mama i am digesting

The Big Pieces of Food come to visit

And there is much joy to be had in the Land of Pug. Because the 3 pugs know that as soon as the grandpugparents hit the threshold, there will be a continuous and delicious supply of previously forbidden treats. Like sausage. and buttered crumpets. and foie gras. Ok, not foie gras, but you know what I mean.

we will survey the garden with our grampa for comestibles

Deedee is willing to endure a fair amount of shnerglage in return for approximately one week's worth of calories.

i 'd better get a crapload of yummies for this good behavior

Cleo is happy to help her grampa do some computer work. He is somewhat technologically helpless, and who better than a pug to lend assistance?

grampa u forgot to dot ur i's

Falsely accused

As I think I have clearly established, my pug-babies are of the black-furred variety. and yes, their fur does get all over everything, but as previously proven (ad nauseum, some may argue), that would be black fur.

So when I find WHITE fur scattered all over my patio furniture, I just assume that it's pug fur leftover from the amazingly prolific fawn pug cousins. I rant, I wail, I rent asunder some fairly old and disposable clothing, and I question of the heavens the necessity of granting fawn pugs such ridiculously floofy fur coats -- as I vacuum, vacuum, and vacuum again the offended sofa cushions.

Perhaps I was a bit quick to judge. Because the last time we whipped back the furniture covers, this is what we beheld:

Who is this, you ask? Why, it is some random cat, owned by some random neighbor, who has apparently adopted our deck as its home.

Needless to say, the puglets hate this cat. Woe to the cat who is left outdoors to roam, at jeopardy from the vengeful pugs.

Pug torpor

Sometimes, there is nothing better than taking a nap outside. Something about the perfect temperature, the slight breeze.... the plethora of sleepy, dead-weight pug. One is never without a sleeping companion in this house. or three.

Deedee is almost is buried-head node. note the daintily-crossed hind paws.

Cleo, as always, likes to be awake for maximum enjoyment of nappage.

I think Sasha may be in a coma.