I came home the other day to an unusually quiet pug greeting. Normally I have 2 to 3 pugs flinging their little watermelon bodies at me for attention. That day, I was merely sniffed by an uber-cool Sasha. This does sometimes happen when the pugs have had a lot of activity earlier in the day, say, perhaps barking all stinkin' day at the villains lurking about our house.
So I was a little trepidatious (thank you, Little Mermaid) when I entered the living room. I fully expected to see prostrate pugs with flecks of dried foam about their mouths, with a blinking answering machine full of messages from irate neighbors in the background.
|i am way too comfortable to sit up, mama|
Apparently, someone thought Cleo looked a little cold. and perhaps a bit sad. So the pug got covered up with a blanket. And it appears that Cleo had been in that exact position for a number of hours.
|I guess Deedee didn't make it to the bed in time to get tucked in.|