There’s a group here in Missoula called Mountain Pugs, who get together every Sunday and let their pugs play. We haven’t witnessed this yet, but plan to this week.
I joined them on FB a while ago because it seemed like a good idea. We had a great Pug growing up, so I have a soft spot for them, even though they are freaks of (manipulated) nature. The only lap dog I’ve known who don’t seem to systemicly be hyper and rodent like.
Mountain Pugs posted an alert over a week ago that a member had found a lost pug, and that it seemed to be without a home, which got M and I thinking about adopting it. Given our current circumstances, that idea didn’t last long, but it was fun for a moment or two.
More seriously, if we get a dog it ought to big a bigger one, like Pukka, so it can go hiking and biking and skiing. Even fit pugs have an effective trail range of only 4-5 miles before they have to be carried. The problems are that dogs can’t be on trail in national parks, so doggy would have to stay home a lot, and that M grew up in a cat family (I got over it) and is rather scared of big, jumpy, slobbery dogs. Which she would get over with a little fuzzball running around the house.
Don’t hold your breath for a Chenault dog, though.
Bedrock & Paradox 
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