Biggie...

... hates weather.

Even beautiful frosty mornings.

Biggie gets painted

Biggie's pop painted him!

He's so talented. Check out his stuff at his blog
Elliott's the bee's knees.

Biggie kind of looks like... pt 2

Biggie...

... doesn't give a care.

"Oh, do you have business in the kitchen? Fuck you."

Biggie kind of looks like... part 1

... kind of looks like

We get it, Biggie...

... nobody wants your moose-stuffy, anyways.

Quit looking so nervous.

Biggie...

... will leave the bed at his own leisure.

I roll over FOR A SECOND

No, that's fine. Just put your butt-hole where I rest my face at night and stare intensely at nothing.

Biggie eats Cheerios really loudly.

Biggie was being mischievous

   It may be apparent by these posts that I do not have complete control over Biggie.

   I have basic commands and outlines that he follows. He knows "No Licking" in the middle of the night means he has to stop licking his paws or risk being blanket-tossed onto the floor, "AAARGH" means "get away from me", and "c'mere" means "come be the little spoon."

   Everything else to him is apparently optional. He's constantly testing to see if the same rules still apply each day.

"Mmm. You say somethin', bitch?"

   So perhaps it's a bit foolish of me to walk him without a leash but I trust him to trust me and we've never had an incident. He knows "heel", "come", and "stay" but if he's sniffing something or feeling rascally he ignores me (pug translation: "fuck you") and it is infuriating.

  Here's a video of him blatantly disobeying the basic "heel" command:

  
   Sometimes, because pugs are a genetic abomination, his stunted body betrays him and he is served his comeuppance.

   Biggie was defiantly lingering around some overturned sod and ignoring my calls to him. I raised my voice and made a (totally flaccid)  threatening stomp in his direction. He went to spring away from the clump and me but tripped, sending all four legs away from each other and his jaw into the dirt. When he tried to right himself he tripped again and hit his chin off the ground. I laughed into his dumb face.
 

  See all that dirt? In his lip? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

  He still had the last laugh though because I had to take care of a hanging chad and he loved every disgusting second of it.

Biggie... -UPDATED-

... gets a bath!

   If there are two things that Biggie is good at it's pooping and taking baths.

Look! He's sitting! omg, too much. (also, how cloudy is his dirt-water? yick)

   I am so effing blessed to have such a chill little dude when it comes to bath time. I really should dole them out more often but a wet dog — even a well-behaved one — is a wet dog.

    He's not so cool when it comes to the drying, though. He wavers between being appreciative and gettin' rascally:

  My favourite part about bath time is how spikey he gets afterward. He's my punkrock lil' pug. (jesus christ, I'm fucking lame).

   (last Christmas, my parents bought Biggie this biodegradable shampoo. It smells like flowers, play-doh, and pine. I love it).

-UPDATE-

   HE'S ALL TUCKERED OUT. AAAAAW.