Well, I survived the first night of a week-long stay at the Pug House of Horror. So far: three meals, three walks. Hubby-Eric took care of one of the other walks for me.
The pugs in question are Buddy, almost seven years old with a tendency toward moodiness when his mommy and daddy (hubby-Eric's parents) aren't around, and Buster, a wild two-year-old who usually manages to stop just short of driving me completely nuts. Usually.
As it's very early, and the pugs are once again settling down, I'm going to take this opportunity to try to go back to sleep. Wish me luck.
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