Pug Diaries: Toys, troublemaking, and Toby taking charge

It’s crazy that, when you read this, Ollie will have been with us for two weeks – the time has just flown by. Two weeks since we brought him home, and only three since we enquired about him in the first place. I don’t think I’d be so chilled about it if he wasn’t so freakishly chilled. I know I said this before, but when we brought him home that first night, and he was doing laps of the flat like it was the Grand Prix, I wasn’t sure how things were going to work out.

Now – although it’s only been two weeks – it feels like we kind of hit the jackpot. He’s chilled throughout the day, curls up next to me while I work and, when he does seem to be going a bit mental (ie. he’s flinging one of his many toys round the room like an actual maniac), I take him out for a quick walk and he sleeps for 2 hours after.

Of course, Toby’s also had a fair bit to get used to, and from the get-go, he made it clear who was boss. Who can blame him – if there were 12 other toys scattered around the room for the new arrival and he went straight for mine, I’d do the same! It wasn’t exactly vicious, because Toby’s too lazy for that TBH. More like a passive-aggressive warning which, so far, seems to have worked a treat. Wonder where he learnt that from, hm…

There have been similar performances a few times, though, which have actually been quite amusing to watch – and reassuring that Toby is actually aware of what’s going on (sometimes I wonder). But come in the way of him and his food and he’ll have you, as Ollie found out. Whether it’s stealing something that’s fallen out of his bowl or discovering a treat that’s been hidden for later, Toby’s on the case, and isn’t shy to steal it back with an assertive bark.

That usually sends Ollie back to his toys – none of which squeak anymore, I must add. That’s usually the first thing to go, in about the first 24 hours of him having them. On the one hand, I feel sad for the dog, but it’s also a relief for my sanity that I don’t have to listen to a squeaking duck being bludgeoned to death every five minutes. Although I don’t have to hear them, though, I do seem to spend a ridiculous amount of time fixing them…

Literally an hour into day one, one of his toys was torn in two – which is a feat, because he’s hardly any teeth in his head. But, he managed, and there I was, wine in one hand and needle and thread in the other, stitching together a starfish, and flat fox and a rainbow octopus. Oh, this is the life…

All in all, though, they’re getting along great. You always wonder, What if… What if they don’tWhat do we do? But no, I really think they like each other. In fact, the sweetest thing happened a couple of days back when were out walking. They were both running around – well Ollie was running, Toby was plodding behind – in the park, when a bigger dog ran over to see them. The guy was there with him etc. and I could see they were fine, but Ollie, who was slightly ahead, ran back to stand with Toby, like a sentry.

There we were thinking Toby would be a big brother – more like a senior citizen and Ollie’s his carer. I wonder whether that’s by choice or if he’s whipped him into shape. Either way, I’m 100% here for it!

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