The pugs had a very busy weekend, traipsing all over the tri-county region, greeting all of their fans. Never mind that it was pouring cats and, well, em, dogs, for most of the weekend.
And that Cleo started the weekend off by sneaking 2 pounds of forbidden kibble while we were out, thus setting herself and us up for a looooooong weekend of what we like to call Diarrhea Watch. This basically consists of leaping to one's feet as soon as the pug passes gas, picking up the gassy pug like a football whilst sprinting to the door, then throwing the stinky pug outside so that she can... sit there and stare at you, offended, like you're the one that's unstable.
|don't be distracted by the relaxed puglet in the front. the one to watch is the one curled up in the back.|
|again, resist the urge to pick up the pug in the front and shnergle her within an inch of her life. because as soon as you do, the one in the back will most certainly commence having the runs.|
|I mean, that paw is just asking for a smooch. NONONONOOO must keep my eyes on the ticking time bomb in the background.|