Or it was anyway. I turned 12 (weeks). Mommy and Daddy took me to an awesome place called "Three Dog Bakery" to let me pick out puppy safe snacks. Needless to say, I almost ate that poor establishment into bankruptcy. I ended up getting two pounds of yummy peanut butter and cheese flavored snacks. Gotta love that peanut butter.
Here, Mommy is holding the cupcake out for me and the camera. My parents were nervous that I would either devour the cupcake or not eat it at all, and they were not sure which one I would do. Sometimes I feel like they forget that I'm a pug.
This is me knockin' it around. Show that cupcake who's boss.
I nervously begin to lick the edges to ensure that it is in fact edible. My parents have played tricks on me before...well mainly Daddy has played tricks on me.
I think I have a look on my face here that says pure ecstasy/anger that I can't eat it fast enough.
I must now take it to my lair, or else that big meany Alpha will demand a share. (Parent's note: remember Alpha, the big pug magnet? Winston is still afraid of him.)
I would be more than happy to share with my new cow friend. He was also a present for my birthday, and when you step on him he goes "MOO".
Gotta chew, gotta chew.
"Hi everyone, happy birthday to me."
/s/ Winston, Grand Duke of Pugsworth