My pug doesn’t love me because my eyes are big, brown and beautiful like his. He loves me because the park I take him to is this one. It has everything he needs — eye candy(me and the mother of a French bulldog he’s been trying hard to impress are teeing up for them a dinner date next week), an enormous patch of grass to run around on, sand if the grass no longer does it for him, and water for him to practice his backstroke in. My needs are more important though, and if this park didn’t cater to them, we wouldn’t go no matter how loud and persistently he begged. Thankfully, it does — it’s secluded and serene, and while the drive down is relatively long, the views on a sunny day relieve me of all the week’s stress(which, ironically, are caused in large part by the Pugman).
