Our eldest baby, the snoring, snorting, stinky, loveable Harley pug has turned 11.
With everything still packed and somewhat lost in the translation of re-homing, my mom got Harleykins a new birthday bowl and some yummy birthday "cake".
Dobby and the transient poodle (since gone home) looked on in drooling jealousy as he snarffed down his filet mignon cake o nasty. He loved it.
Almost as much we love him.
Happy Birthday, sweet pugpug.
We love you!