My pug Elvis has been staying at my parents house for almost a week whilst hubby and I have been away. We came back from Harrogate today so it was time to go and pick him up. I half expected him to be in a sulk with me, not helped by the fact my dad kept teasing me for “abandoning him”. In fact these days it’s more a case of my dad kidnapping him so the two of them can go off on their renowned adventures along the Leeds-Liverpool canal.
I needn’t have worried however as the boy was on top form with his usual vigorous welcome as soon as I walked in the door. He eventually calmed down and then dedicated a significant portion of the hour that followed into figuring out how he could get me to give him a piece of Victoria sponge (not happening) and getting me to try and take the noisiest rubber chicken on the planet off him whilst he runs round the living room.
He couldn’t wait to get out for a walk when we got home – also known as mostly being about scratching and sniffing whilst meeting as many of his adoring public as possible (human and animal alike).
He’s now snoring his little head off on the sofa next to me…don’t think I’ll be far behind him.